


Through Ice and Shadows

by wynteralchemyst



Category: Frozen (2013), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Acceptance, Black Romance, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 72,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynteralchemyst/pseuds/wynteralchemyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She caught his attention from the beginning." Elsa was a strange girl - a mystery to be uncovered. Pitch Black saw the potential of darkness and destruction in her, but for the solitary Jack Frost, Elsa was something more - something that pulled at him and drew him on, something impossible and inevitable. She was beautiful and sad, and he loved her before he knew it was too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forged From Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Just throwing this idea out there. I posted it on another site and they seemed to like it alright, so here's hoping you guys like it, too. Any and all feedback is appreciated. :)

She caught his attention from the beginning.  
Pitch Black always believed that children were easy to torment and to frighten. They feared so much - monsters, isolation, the cold - but above all, darkness. It was so simple, so wonderfully easy to nudge a hint of fear into their heads. A flicker of shadow, a noise where there oughtn't be, and he was rewarded by a shriek of pure, unadulterated horror.  
"Nightmares," parents told their children soothingly. "It was just a nightmare." And Pitch, looking on in the darkness, would smile. If so, he thought, then I am the king of nightmares.  
Every child was susceptible. Every child was weak. Predictable. It pleased him and yet, every couple decades or so, Pitch nearly wished for something more.  
And then he found her.  
Elsa, the eldest princess of the kingdom of Arendelle.  
Pitch stood at the foot of her bed, his chin perched on the knuckles of one hand. What to make of this little girl? He had been observing her for a while and found himself almost... uncertain.  
"You are unusual, aren't you?" he murmured aloud, but it was true; Elsa had almost no similarities to any other child he had encountered. The cold did not bother her, nor did isolation, for she had been living in the self-imposed prison of her room for years now without complaint. Pitch's chief weapon, darkness, had little impact on the girl, and as for monsters -   
Well. Pitch's golden eyes flickered over the girl's sleeping form, appraising the guilt inside Elsa's mind. Perhaps there was something inside her he could use after all.  
But not yet.  
Pitch knew a prize when he saw one, so he waited. He watched her from the shadows as she grew from a young girl into a woman. Normally he had no power over adults - they were too rational, without the imagination or curiosity to give his nightmares any influence - so he left them alone. Elsa, though, was different. She had plenty of imagination, but it had been suppressed and packed away in the back of her mind. She was worried about other things, like learning politics, economics, law and policy - all the things she would need to know to rule Arendelle one day.  
And she was worried about her powers. She tried not to let it show, but Pitch knew. Elsa was a bundle of nerves beneath her calm exterior, and it would only be a matter of time before she cracked under the pressure. Pitch wanted to be there when it happened.  
Elsa was strong, though - stronger than Pitch at first assumed. She held herself together when her parents perished at sea, and though her powers became more unpredictable than ever, she maintained control. Then her coronation day came and Elsa's restraint slipped. She turned the entire fjord to solid ice and escaped into the mountains, naively certain that exile would relieve her of her concerns. Her sister - the insufferable Anna, who was such a pleasure to torture when she was younger - came and was injured by another slip in Elsa's control. Pitch was tempted to interject then and there, but his instincts urged him to wait. There will be more, he thought as he watched the queen pace under the crystal chandelier. There always is.  
And he was right. Elsa was captured and imprisoned. The arrogant prince, who had recklessly shown his true colors too early, attempted to murder Elsa - only to be stopped by Anna, who blocked the killing blow as she turned to ice.  
And good riddance to her, Pitch thought, bored as the prince tripped all over himself in astonishment and Elsa began to cry. No matter how many times Elsa begged and pleaded, and despite all the desperate attempts to unfreeze her sister, Anna stayed a perfect statue of blue carven ice.  
"That's right, it was your fault," Pitch murmured as Elsa finally dropped her hand from her sister's cheek and turned away. "You were the one who killed her. She would be alive except for you."  
Elsa looked up at Hans, crouched on the ground, and over at the young blond man standing by his reindeer. "This was my doing," she said, and wiped the tears from her eyes. They sparkled like diamonds, the salty tears already turned to chips of ice in her hands. "This is my fault."  
"No," the blond man began, but Elsa shook her head.  
"If it wasn't for me, if it wasn't for my powers..." She paused, then looked back over her shoulder at Anna. "I won't put anyone in danger ever again."  
"But - " The blond man caught Elsa's arm as she strode past. She flinched and pulled out of his grip. "But Arendelle needs you!" he called after her.  
"No, it doesn't. No, it doesn't." Elsa began to run, her eyes squeezing shut. "I'm nothing but a - a monster!"  
Pitch smiled as he watched her go. "Yes," he murmured, "you most certainly are."  
Elsa ran far - further than the North Mountain, further than any human searchers could go. For a while Pitch wondered if she might run all the way to the North Pole - that would have complicated things. He certainly didn't need the idealistic and disgustingly optimistic St. North intruding into his endeavors - but Elsa stopped before she got that far, in the mountains that bordered the edge of her country. There she created a cave in the sheer cliffside and waited, facing ever towards the outside world.  
She expected a search party, so Pitch left her alone. He left her to her isolation, to her grief, and to her melancholy. He waited until he saw the defeat in her eyes before he knew it was time to reveal himself.   
She had never seen him before - she never had a reason to. She had never feared him or his tricks, and he knew she did not fear him now. But as Elsa looked up at him from her position on the ground, he saw recognition. Acceptance. He was the embodiment of fallen hopes and ruined dreams, and she believed in that more than anything.  
"You're Pitch Black," she said softly.  
He gave her a mocking bow. "And you're the queen of Arendelle."  
"No, I'm not." She looked away from him. "I don't deserve to be the queen of anything."  
"Oh, I doubt that very much." He clasped his hands behind his back and took a casual step toward her. "I've heard you're gifted at manipulating ice and snow."  
"Manipulate?" she echoed hollowly. "I can't control it, I can't restrain it. You speak as if it's under my power, but it isn't. I've never been able to - "  
"Ah ah," he said softly, "not so fast. What about your talk of 'letting go'? You once made a palace of ice and a living defender to guard it."  
"It was a fluke," she said flatly. "And it doesn't matter, because I wasn't able to use my powers when I needed them."  
"Ah yes," he said. "To save your sister. Yet it was you, I believe, that put the ice in her heart to begin with." Pitch waited for the wince he knew would come, but Elsa only dropped her eyes. Good, he thought. "Well, you know why you did it, of course."  
That surprised her. Elsa twisted around, her blue eyes bright. "W-What?" she gasped, almost as if she were her old self again. "It wasn't - it wasn't a conscious decision - "  
"Regardless." He pretended to inspect the fingernails of his left hand. "You reacted because you were scared."  
"I wasn't - "  
He laughed. "Oh, you were. I know fear, your highness, and you were afraid."  
Her eyes narrowed. "I was not afraid of Anna."  
"No, not of her. No one could be afraid of her." He raised an eyebrow. "But you were scared."  
She blinked. "...yes," she said slowly. "I was."  
"Then who were you afraid of? Hans? The soldiers? The party guests?"  
"No... no, I wasn't afraid of any of them."  
"Then who was it?"  
"...me," Elsa admitted quietly. "I was afraid of myself. What I could do."  
His eyes flickered over to her, then away. "So you think that barricading yourself here will help," he stated.  
She looked up at him. Whether she really didn't have an answer for him, or if she just wasn't used to hearing sarcasm, he couldn't say. She only looked at him.  
Pitch dropped his hand, abandoning the pretense. "How long would you say you've been here?" he asked, turning away. "How long would you guess that you've been waiting for someone - anyone - to come and drag you back to Arendelle?"  
Elsa blinked. She looked down at her hands, which were clasped around her knees. She slowly shook her head. "I... I don't - "  
"I'll tell you: fifty years."  
Her head shot up, disbelief written across her face. "What? But that's - "  
"Impossible? No." He glanced over at her. "You've become something of a legend in your country, highness. A girl with the power of winter? No, it can't be true. Some of the elderly swear they've seen you, but most of the younger generations know better."  
Elsa stared at him.  
"You've become a bedtime story, a tale told over the fire, a late night whisper. It really was rather stunning how infamous you've become, and how quickly."  
"But... what about..." Elsa swallowed. "... Anna?"  
He gave her an indifferent look. "What do you think ice does? It melts."  
Her mouth slowly fell open in horror.  
"And your kingdom?" He flicked his hand. "Moved on. It didn't really need you to run it, you know."  
Elsa looked away. There were tears shining at the edges of her eyes, but they didn't fall. "Did anyone try to come after me?"  
"A few. The howling storm stopped them from getting very far, though."  
She nodded, but it was a cheerless motion. "So that's it," she said in a dead voice. "Everyone I love is gone. I'm still alive, but to all the world I'm just a rumor." She shut her eyes. "I'm not even real anymore."  
"Oh, you're very real. Your powers should be proof of that."  
"But everyone is afraid - "  
"And is that so terrible?" Pitch turned to face her. "Your abilities are too strange, too treacherous for everyone else, and that's why they fear you." He paused for effect. "But not me."  
Elsa opened her eyes.  
Pitch held out his hand. Later on he wondered why he decided to demonstrate his powers to her, and why he spoke to her the way he did. He hadn't needed her, then. He hadn't even wanted her, really. He wrote it off as instinct again, and yet that wasn't it. Not completely.  
In that moment, when the shadows twisted and congealed in his hand and when the darkness arched and curled behind him like a cloak, he saw an expression on Elsa's face that was familiar: the stirrings of hope.   
He had worn that look once, long ago.  
"I, too, have a power that is feared," he said gravely. "Over time, I learned to accept and control it. It does not dominate me anymore." He clenched his fist, extinguishing the shadow's weak life. "Nor will it, ever again."  
Interest kindled in Elsa's face, and recognition. "We... are similar," Elsa said slowly. She stood up and brushed the lingering snowflakes from the folds of her skirt, looking at him all the while.  
"I suppose," he said diffidently, but she was right.  
Yet Elsa was sharper than he'd suspected, and she asked carefully, "did you lose someone, once?"  
Pitch stilled. For a moment he was silent, frozen by the thought -  
No, it didn't matter. It doesn't matter. He shook off his uneasiness and the distant, long-buried sorrow. He purged the memory and glanced sideways at Elsa, all his darkness and acerbity funneling into a single word. "No."  
He turned away. Elsa hurried after him. "If I am just a story, then the people must not remember much about me," she said.  
"They remember enough," he told her shortly. "To them, you are the Snow Queen."  
"Snow Queen," Elsa murmured. She glanced at him and Pitch had to suppress his smile. Yes, he knew what she was thinking. The King of Nightmares and the Snow Queen. How quaint.  
"But then... fifty years... " Elsa slowed. Pitch looked back at her. She was studying her slim white hands. "How could... won't I...?"  
"Die?" he supplied, and her eyes darted up to meet his. "No, I shouldn't think so." He gave her a knowing look. "You see, legends never die, so long as they're believed in."  
"Believed in?" she echoed.  
Then Pitch did smile. "Yes. And by the time we're through, everyone will believe in you."

And so Elsa went with him.  
Pitch Black was a strange companion. Actual conversation between them was few and far between - instead, he was silent and ever-watchful, his true thoughts as elusive as the very shadows he retained. He had very little in the way of actual instructions for controlling her powers. Eventually Pitch admitted that he could not say how, exactly, he learned to rule the darkness - just that it had been slowly, over time. If Elsa was intimately familiar with both her capabilities and her limitations, then there was a chance she could learn how to restrain the storm beneath her skin.   
So, as Elsa traveled with Pitch, she tested them. Like a muscle that had never before been properly used, Elsa felt a part of her grow stronger as the years raced on. She could not explain to Pitch where she felt the control exactly - whether it was in her will, in her heart, or if it was simply a delusion of her mind - but she felt stronger. And that gave her some courage.  
That pleased Pitch, too.  
Elsa did not deceive herself about the nature of his long absences, or the reason for their lengthy travels. Pitch was the Nightmare King - the Bogeyman. It was his self-appointed duty to frighten children and ignite fear. It was what he did - he had to, in a way; it was what kept him breathing. Elsa knew it, but deep down she did not like it. She did not watch Pitch at his work, for the expressions of the children's faces chilled her like nothing could. Sometimes she thought she could hear their screams far in the distance where she stood at the edge of town, and she wondered what it was they were afraid of - what Pitch was using to torment them this time.  
Sometimes, every once in a while, Elsa thought she heard Anna's screams.  
Forget, Pitch had told her. It only hurts to remember. And as she'd met his gaze, Elsa knew he was right. Her memories of Anna, and the regrets - so very many regrets - always managed to undo her years of work and make her control turn fragile. The nostalgia piled on her, suffocating her, until Pitch had to come and snap her out of her misery.  
It was easier not to remember.  
So Elsa did not. She did not think about her sister, her parents, and Arendelle. She did not think about the past, and her power grew. Finally she was the master of her abilities and herself, and she did not need Pitch's aid. He smiled at her when she demonstrated her mastery and, when she was done, he tilted her chin up so he could whisper in her ear, "well done, highness."  
And Elsa knew that Pitch was proud to have her at his side.  
His Snow Queen.  
And she was satisfied to be with him.  
It was only a little while later, though, that she met HIM.  
Elsa could not say what year it was, precisely - Pitch, so meticulous and far-minded, could always keep track of the passing years, though to Elsa it was like trying to pick out the individual snowflakes of a raging storm; not impossible, but difficult - when she stood there, on that bridge, looking over the city. It was not yet dawn, and the crystals of ice sparkled in the faint light - her handiwork, to aid Pitch in his nightly rounds. The city was built around a crescent-shaped harbor, with distant mountains to the north, all peaked in snow. It could have been Arendelle, almost, Elsa thought, looking down over the winding streets. But it was not. The landscape was all wrong, the buildings too different. It was not Arendelle.  
For a moment, though, she wished it was.  
A gentle gust of wind blew against her back, pulling against the ice-spun fabric of her train and teasing the snowflakes from her braid. She felt rather than saw someone land down behind her, the soft tap of a staff against the stone bridge the only indication that it wasn't Pitch. "I guess nature beat me to it," a man said, striding to the edge of the bridge and looking down. He chuckled a little. "Some of those cobbles look pretty slippery, though. That's good."  
Elsa glanced over at him. The silver hair and death-pale cheeks marked him as no human. This must be Jack Frost, she thought, tracing the delicate swirls of ice on the hem of his brown cloak with her eyes. Pitch had mentioned him a few times in passing.  
"It wasn't," she said softly. "Mother Nature, I mean."  
Jack looked over at her, then suddenly froze, blue eyes wide. He isn't a man, Elsa thought, noting the childlike sparkle in his eyes. He's a boy. A teenager, at most.  
"You can... see me?" he asked. The hopeful note in his voice made her smile a little.  
"I'm not a human," she said gently, and his face fell. "I'm sorry."  
He shook his head. "It's okay. It - It doesn't matter. I guess I'm just not used to being... invisible, yet."  
"Being invisible has its advantages," she said, turning back to look over the city. Over the water, the sky was beginning to lighten, turning the clouds above the mountains a blushing pink. "You can't get close to anyone, so the partings hurt less. If you don't care about anyone, then you aren't a threat - not to them, and not to yourself."  
"That's... that's terrible," Jack said. When Elsa turned to look at him, his hand tightened around his staff. "You have to care about - well, something," he said. "What's the fun in a life where you don't love anything?"  
"I don't need love," Elsa said dismissively, turning away again.  
"Everyone needs something to love!" Jack burst out. His eyes were so fierce, so assured, and Elsa stared at him in amazement.  
Quickly the fire died in Jack's expression and his gaze fell. "At least, that's what I think. I'm... I'm trying to find my purpose here, too."  
She opened her mouth to contradict him, but after a moment or two, she slowly closed it again. He was right, in a way. She had a purpose, here with Pitch, but it wasn't... it wasn't her purpose.  
They stood there in silence, watching the growing light touch the slanted, frosty rooftops. Elsa could see Jack fidgeting at her side until finally he blurted, "sorry. For, you know, arguing with you."  
A smile curved the corner of her lips. "It's alright."  
"I don't even think I've introduced myself. Wow, I'm such an ass - er, asinine jerk." He cringed, glancing over at her. "Sorry."  
Her smile only widened.   
"I'm Jack Frost," he said.  
The words came out before she could stop them. "Elsa."  
"Elsa," Jack echoed.  
"The Snow Queen," she clarified, looking up into his eyes.  
"So hey, you must know some great snow tricks and techniques," he said, grinning.  
The memory of Olaf lept to her mind, but Elsa brushed it away. "No," she said quietly, "I don't. I'm not really concerned with having fun."  
Jack said nothing, but Elsa could feel him watching her as she looked back over the city. The sun was just cresting the distant sea, shards of light bouncing across the waves and onto the shore. In the rising brightness, the flakes of snow and ice sparkled. The cobblestones glinted in a pearly sheen, and the mountains began to glow with the incandescence of the heavens' glory.  
"This is my favorite part," Elsa murmured reverently. "The light, the stillness. I couldn't ask for more."  
"You could," Jack replied, equally quiet. "You could ask for something to live for."  
Elsa stiffened.  
"I mean, the sunrise is nice - it really is," he said, looking sideways at her. "But it won't make you happy. Not for long."  
"I don't need happiness," she whispered.  
"Everyone needs happiness." Jack leaned on his staff and smiled gently at her. "Even someone as sad and beautiful as you."  
Elsa looked over at him. Jack's cheeks were flushed - probably he hadn't meant to say that last part aloud - but he held her gaze.  
Maybe he's right, Elsa wondered, looking into his honest, confident face. There was no lurking darkness, no bitterness in his eyes, and Elsa realized then that she had missed that. Maybe I do need to find something that makes me happy.  
For a moment, Elsa allowed herself to imagine a life lived Jack's way. There would be plenty of adventures and excitement, and she would laugh more, because everything would seem more fun. She would care, really care, about herself and the world. Her powers would be chaotic again and might threaten to overwhelm her, but did it really matter when she felt so alive? Perhaps Jack could help her find something to love, something that would become her purpose...  
It was a perfect image, and Elsa held it close, relishing it, before letting it fade slowly away. That will never happen, she thought. I am with Pitch now - he was the one who helped me collect myself and move on. He helped me gain what strength I have. Caring about things only limits you, and becomes a burden. I cannot abandon the control I've achieved. I will not.  
Still, what Jack said... perhaps there is some merit in it, too.  
"Thank you," she told him.  
Jack only shrugged. "I'm just telling the truth."   
"Even so, I'm grateful." Elsa smiled a little. "I have never smiled so much as I have with you."  
He raised his eyebrows. "Wow, really? Because you've barely smiled at all."  
Without replying, Elsa reached up to lightly brush the edge of his jaw. The moment her fingertips touched his skin, a pattern of frozen fractals bloomed icy blue against his cheek. "Thank you," she said again, softer this time.  
Jack curled his fingers around her wrist, holding her hand in place. "You don't have to leave," he said.  
"I do. Pitch will be waiting for me."  
His eyes narrowed slightly in recognition of the name, but no more. "You don't have to stay with him."  
Elsa smiled sadly. She trailed her thumb back and forth across his skin. It was nearly the same shade of frosty white as her own, and she marveled at it. Who was this boy, this Jack Frost, that he could say such dangerously candid things to her, that he did not hesitate to bare his heart before her? Not even Pitch had ever been so earnest. How could Jack have any real feelings for her, when they had only met ten minutes ago?  
And who was this boy, that he could spark the same emotions in her? For she did feel something - a rhythm between them. The moment they had touched, Elsa felt her heart fall into beat with his own, felt their breaths synchronize as his eyes looked into hers. With Jack, Elsa felt connected. Together, they belonged. Like puzzle pieces of a greater whole, they fit together seamlessly. She was his. He was hers. They could not be parted, and any thought of separation from him - from this perceptive, thoughtful, funny, kind, dear boy - was so painful that her heart quailed within her chest -   
Don't feel. A broken piece of the familiar mantra came back to her, startlingly clear despite the many years that had passed. It will be for the best.   
Elsa looked away from Jack. "If only," she said quietly, pulling her arm away. "I wish we had met earlier. Things might have been... well, they might have been different."  
"They still could," he said, but she only turned away.  
"Goodbye, Jack," Elsa said. She left him standing on the bridge, his face upturned in the golden morning light as he watched her go.  
Pitch Black was waiting for her when she arrived at their meeting place in the forest, further inland. "What kept you?" he demanded as she stepped gracefully toward him.  
"The sunrise," she told him truthfully. She had learned long ago not to lie to Pitch.  
"Is that so?" he said, giving her one of his cold looks. "Well, it's getting a little too bright for me. Shall we?"  
"Yes," Elsa said.  
There must have been something in her face, or maybe her voice, that caused Pitch to pause. "I don't know what you see in them," he said, turning back to face her. "All mornings look the same to me."  
"This one was different," she said quietly. she refused to let herself glance back at the bridge, but the temptation was there all the same.  
"Yes, it was," Pitch mused. He stepped close to her and placed a finger against her temple. He slowly traced the curvature of her face down to her chin, speaking all the while. "I've decided to try something different. An exploration of the possibilities of our powers, you might say. Think you're up for it?"  
Elsa met his eyes. Pitch was looking at his hand against her skin, his ashy pigment a striking contrast against her frosty paleness. Dark and ice. What goes better, after all? "Yes," she told him.  
His golden eyes flickered up to meet hers. He tipped her chin up sharply. "Good," he said, ignoring her soft gasp. "Then let's have no more distractions by the sun anymore." He released her and spun away. His tall, elegant form vanished swiftly into the shadows of the nearest tree, leaving Elsa alone in the glade.  
I suppose I will never see Jack Frost again, she thought, only then letting herself look back. The dark branches of the forest blotted out everything except a single shining tower in the distance, and Elsa gazed at it for a long moment. I was lucky just to see him once. I should be satisfied with that.  
It was true, but the thought still made her sad.  
Sad and beautiful, Jack had called her.  
Then again, the future can bring many things, Elsa thought and she turned to follow the Nightmare King into the shadows. Maybe Pitch will cross his path.  
Maybe I will get to see him again.  
Jack Frost.  
She smiled.


	2. Brittle as Ice

Pitch Black was a gifted teacher.  
From him, Elsa learned many things - things strange and dark, things she never could have imagined on her own. He taught her how to shape the ice, how to twist it and mold it into illusions, into a weapon. He taught her how to thin the snowfall until it was nothing more than shadowless fog, and change it in a second's notice into minute needles. She learned to make a shield and animated decoys, each with the same deadly aim as their creator.  
"Good," Pitch said approvingly as he watched her practice. "Very good, your highness."  
She inclined her head, her chest heaving with exertion. "Thank you."  
"Now..." He stepped to her side and placed his hand on top of hers, his long tapered fingers fitting exactly over her own. "...do it again."  
With his powers combined with hers, Elsa's strength doubled. The ice flew faster, the edges cut deeper, and the illusions were more menacing. The sight alone of pristine ice coalesced with swirling trails of darkness sent a small chill skittering down her spine.  
Pitch only laughed. "Look at what we can do together!" He strode forward to lovingly stroke the smooth surface of the barrier they had constructed. "Beautiful," he murmured. "No one will have the strength to stand against me now."  
Elsa watched him at a distance and tried not to notice the menacing shadows their combined creations left on the ground. She was glad he was pleased, really - but something about the mixture of their powers made her hands shake.  
It scared her.  
She clenched her hands, forcing the emotion away. "Who would oppose you?" she asked Pitch. He did not respond, but Elsa did not have to think hard to guess the answer.  
The Guardians.  
He railed, ranted and fumed about them. It was strange, for in all of Elsa's years with Pitch, she had never seen him appear so passionately furious about anything. He was almost irrational in his hatred of them, and it made her wonder what they had done to infuriate him so.  
Pitch never answered her direct questions - he just gave her a burning glare every time she asked - but little by little, Elsa was able to piece together a skeletal framework of who the Guardians were: bitter enemies of the Nightmare King all the way back to the beginning, reaching back to someone who called himself the Man in the Moon.  
"I didn't know there was such a thing," Elsa commented quietly after one of his streams of curses and complaints.  
"Oh, he's real," Pitch spat. "I tried to kill him , but he survived. Now he's sending his precious Guardians to make a mess of things and get in my way."  
Elsa stared at him. His words, cold and bitter, filled her with dread. "And you still want to kill him?" she asked softly. "You want to kill... the Guardians?"  
"Of course I do, I want to - " Pitch stopped, his eyes on her. "Oh. Oh, I see." The words dissolved into chuckles as he took a step toward her. "You don't like that, do you? the idea of killing anyone."  
Elsa swallowed. "I thought wanted to scare children," she said. "I didn't know you... participated in murder."  
"Participated?" Pitch echoed, grinning. "Normally, no - but I'm not above trying in order to meet certain ends."  
She pressed her eyes closed for a long moment. "Well, I won't do it," she said. Her eyes snapped open and she fixed him with a firm look. "I won't kill anyone for you. Promise me you will not force me to."  
He only looked at her, his ochre eyes unblinking. Measuring her.  
"Promise me," she pressed, emotion making her voice waver. She had never demanded anything from him before, and she wondered how he might react. He had to agree. She couldn't kill someone. She couldn't -   
Something constricted inside her at the thought, right in the center of her chest. Pitch had to agree. He had to.  
The Nightmare King did not speak for several seconds, his gaze locked with Elsa's. Then, abruptly, he shrugged. "You are useful, but I won't need you for that, highness."  
He turned away from her, and Elsa let out a slow sigh. The pressure in her chest eased, and suddenly she felt lighter, almost - well, not happy, she thought, taking another soft breath, but better.  
The relief only lasted for a few days.  
They had arrived just outside the city Pitch had selected to haunt - a nice village up in the mountains, with a great lake nearby - when Pitch stopped in mid-stride. He turned his head slowly to look up, and what he saw made him stiffen. Elsa looked between the trees, following his gaze, but could see nothing. "What - ?" she began.  
Pitch's arm shot up, his hand forbidding speech with a quick, sharp motion, and Elsa's jaw snapped closed. Pitch remained perfectly still for a few more seconds, then dropped his hand. "Of course. I should have expected, this high up," he seethed in a low whisper.  
Elsa tried again, softer this time. "What is it?"  
He looked back over his shoulder at her, annoyance at having to explain clear on his face. "Yeti. St. North's spies. They've gone to tell him we're here."  
"I see," Elsa said, though she didn't entirely - Nicholas St. North had been mentioned numberless times along with the hated title Guardian, but she'd never heard anything about a yeti before.  
Pitch looked away. "Go freeze the lake down there and then get out of sight," he ordered. "I'd rather introduce you to St. North on my own terms and not his."  
"Yes," Elsa said obediently. She negotiated her way between the trees and down to the lake's edge. Careful to keep her dress out of the way, she hunched down and pressed her hand against the surface of the water. White ice crystals bloomed at her touch, radiating outward until the entire lake was frozen solid. Elsa allowed herself to smile a little as she climbed to her feet. She never admired her handiwork much, but it was pretty. The lake sparkled, reflecting the moon's light. The sight of it triggered a memory, hazy from neglect: pearly cobblestones, sun-touched mountains, and icy rooftops.  
And a boy.  
"I didn't ask you to admire the view," Pitch hissed. He strode past her, his firm hand pushing Elsa to one side as he went. His golden eyes glared accusingly at her. "Now get back behind a tree and stay there until I call you."  
Elsa wordlessly gathered her snowflake train in her arms and climbed up the snowy bank. She ducked into the shelter of the trees and hid herself in the shadows before turning back to watch. Pitch was standing in the middle of the lake, his hands clasped behind his back. Waiting.  
When St. North arrived, it was quickly - like the first snowflake of an approaching winter storm. One moment Pitch was alone, the light from the lake making his eyes shine, cat-like, in the night, and then a tall, red-cloaked man was striding out onto the ice. The heels of his sturdy winter boots clicked with each step, and there was a glint from the two curved swords in his hands. But his face... against Pitch's instructions, Elsa leaned around the tree and squinted, trying to see better. North was old - in his sixties, at least - but his rosy cheeks and enormous stomach looked almost... jolly. Elsa wasn't sure what she had expected a Guardian to be, but it wasn't this older man.  
He reminded her of her grandfather, before he died.  
"The Yetis told me they had seen you, but I did not believe," St. North called, stopping a cautious distance from Pitch. To Elsa's surprise, he was grinning. "Now, I believe."  
"Sorry if I disappointed you - " Pitch began.  
"You're not," North interjected cheerily.  
"No," he agreed. "But tell me, since when did your hairy spies take up an outpost here? Surely they have some better things to do - clean out the reindeer stables, perhaps?"  
"I ask them look for you," he said, ignoring the jibe. "You are very active now - more than before."  
"What did you expect?"  
"The children are not happy. Therefore, I am not happy." St. North shrugged one shoulder, his fingers tapping idly against the pommel of his engraved sword. "But now, I ask nice: stop."  
"Really? You're going to ask me to stop? Just like that?" Pitch snorted. "Please. It's not even close to Christmas - have you been at the milk and cookies again?"  
"Not just at Christmas!" he objected. Behind the tree, Elsa's eyes widened. Christmas. But then, he must be...  
Father Christmas.  
Santa Claus.  
"I will not ask again," North warned.  
Now it was Pitch's turn to shrug, albeit disdainfully. "You shouldn't have asked. You know me better than that, North. No amount of pretty please will change my mind."  
"Very well, then I demand: stop now."  
"And why would I want to comply?" Pitch asked in a bored voice. "I thought you were a firm advocate of fun and joy - and I haven't had this much fun in ages."  
"For the children."  
"Oh, of course," Pitch groaned. "For them. I almost forgot how important each brat is to you."  
"Yes! Individual, special, with dreams and hopes you cannot know!" North spread his arms wide. "I hear them - and I hear their cries."  
Pitch rolled his eyes.  
"Childhood is... security. Is happiness. Is peace." North flicked the blade of one of his swords toward Pitch. "What do you think happens when you scare them during night?"  
He smiled lazily. "I become more powerful."  
North's eyes narrowed. "The world becomes a little darker. Each time you invade a child's dream, their light flickers out."  
"I don't care what happens to them!" Pitch snarled. Hidden in the shadows of the forest, Elsa started and drew closer to the tree trunk. She had heard that tone in his voice before.  
St. North only nodded, but there was a hardening to his face - a resolve, and a little bit of sadness, too. "That is what I thought you say," he said. Then he swung his swords up in the attack position and charged.  
Faster than the eye could catch, darkness fused together around Pitch and he met North in the sharp clang of metal. Elsa stared, wide-eyed, as North's testing lunges grew into real attacks and Pitch was forced to use both hands to defend against the growing ferocity of his opponent. They were amazing. It was clear that North was extraordinarily skilled with dual swords, but Pitch - Pitch was something else entirely. Elsa had never seen him fight with all of his being before, but it was a sight to behold. His weapon was a blur of blue-black in his hands, an elusive and deadly shadow, always deflecting while managing to attempt a few strikes when North seemed at his weakest. He wielded the weapon like an extension of himself, like he had always instructed Elsa, but it was clear that he was a master at the skill. But then, he has had many lifetimes to perfect it, Elsa reminded herself - something Pitch would often, though grudgingly, repeat to her after a disappointing practice of ice manifestation -   
Suddenly Pitch knocked St. North back a few steps, the impact of the motion throwing his arms back behind his head in a near standstill, and Elsa finally caught sight of the weapon in Pitch's hands. It was a long wicked-looking scythe, the enormous black blade twisted and jagged. Elsa sucked in her breath. No, she thought.  
Then the moment was gone; Pitch launched himself at North and the blade became a streak of color once again. Elsa ducked back behind the tree and pressed her back against the trunk. She held out her hand, willing the ice crystals to freeze together, to form into the weapon Pitch had taught her -   
\- a scythe.  
Elsa let it hang in the air above her hand for a few moments before the full realization of it made her recoil. The scythe dissolved into flakes of snow, where they dropped in a mound at her feet. Elsa hid her hands behind her back, her breath coming in panicked gasps. "No," she breathed, "no, no - "  
But she had seen it with her own eyes. Pitch was fighting a Guardian of childhood with the very same weapon he had been teaching her to use.  
It frightened her.  
"Giving up already, North?" Pitch's taunting voice demanded. "We've barely even begun to fight! You're showing your age, old man."  
Despite herself, Elsa slowly twisted around to look. St. North was struggling to his feet, one sword stabbed into the ice to help pull himself up. "Says pot calling kettle," North grumbled, swaying a little as he rose to his full height. "I will still beat you."  
Pitch burst into a full-throated laugh. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "Leave the lies to me, North. I'd hate to be bored to death by both your overconfidence and your attempts to fend me off. You may as well give up now, while you still have the strength to walk."  
North's eyes narrowed. "No."  
"And why not?" The amusement was already beginning to leak from his voice. "It's only a few days until Christmas, isn't it? Wouldn't want the little children to have a disappointing holiday, now would we?"  
"Because they need someone to defend them from you!" North burst out, jerking his sword out of the ice. "I defend the children because they need joyful days - like Christmas. They need memories to get them through life - happy memories, of wonder. Light. Family. It is courage to move forward, for future. Don't you see the importance?"  
"No!" Pitch snapped. "It's all pointless! Meaningless! Family is a waste of time."   
"Family is love," North said, his voice softening slightly.  
And suddenly Elsa remembered her own childhood. The memories were sharp and clear, as if she had only left her bedroom moments before. She remembered the desk where she sat when her tutors came; the bed where she had lain awake thinking about her growing powers, and all those times where she'd secretly prayed they might go away. She remembered her parents, when they used to visit her before their deaths, and...  
She remembered Anna.  
She recalled her sister's voice on the other side of the door, begging for Elsa to come and play, to ride bikes, to build a snowman - to just come out. Just once. Anna's voice had changed as she grew older, and the knocks grew fewer and far between. There were some months where the knocks never came at all, and then they eventually stopped altogether. Elsa knew it was for the best, then. She'd told herself that Anna was safer if she forgot all about her. Elsa could endure the loneliness if Anna was protected.  
But she had never considered Anna's loneliness.  
No child should ever have the childhood that we endured, Elsa thought, pressing her eyes closed as the approach of tears threatened her vision. If I could go back and change it all, I would.  
Family is love. I just didn't realize it until too late.  
"You don't need love when you have power! Control!" Pitch ground out. "Fear will give that to me - the fear of weak, pathetic children!"  
"That is why I will guard them always!" North roared. "The four Guardians will stand against you!"  
"Not if I can end one of you first," he sneered. He snapped his fingers. "Elsa, get out here!"  
Elsa started. Her name. She had never heard Pitch say her name before.  
"You are not as good showman as you think you are." Metal clanged together and North grunted with the effort. "Distraction does not work on me."  
"It's not a distraction. Elsa! Out here, now!"  
Elsa's fingers curled into the deep ridges in the tree bark. Frost spread outward, coating the trunk in wild geometric crystals. She had to obey - Pitch had trained her for this, she knew what to do - he was calling for her to come -   
But she didn't want to.  
I can't, she thought, watching as North advanced on the Nightmare King. He's a Guardian - a Guardian of children. Of their innocence and life. Of their future. If I step in now... if I help Pitch...  
"Elsa!" North showed no signs of fatigue now, and Pitch was having trouble keeping him at arm's length. "I demand you obey me!"  
Elsa's heart pounded in her chest. I have to go, she thought. I have to help Pitch. He'll be so furious -   
But the children. If I help him defeat St. North, the children... The storm was brewing under her skin, begging to be released. The children...  
"Elsa! Dammit, get out here and kill him!" Pitch shouted.  
Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight back her raging power -  
"Elsa?" Anna's young voice in Elsa's consciousness was soft - the only gentle thing in the vortex of her mind and the battle below. "Do you want to build a snowman? I never see you anymore. Come out the door, it's like you've gone away."  
"Elsa!" There was a clatter - Pitch's scythe as it flew out of his hands and skidded across the ice.  
"Do you want to build a snowman?"  
"Yes!" Elsa shrieked, throwing out her arm. She felt the rush of frigid air, the bottled tension inside her fading as the electric current of winter energy burned out of her system - and the silence.  
The dreadful silence.  
Elsa slowly opened her eyes. A towering white column stood in the middle of the lake, the spiraling peaks of ice glinting faintly. Inside it, she could see a slight discoloration - crimson, and the shine of upraised swords: St. North.  
A few feet away, Pitch looked up at the column with awe in his eyes. "Not what I had in mind for your big debut, but it will do," he said. He picked himself off the ground where he had thrown himself to safety, and dusted off the lingering snowflakes. "That raw power - North won't be forgetting you anytime soon. If he doesn't freeze to death first." He grinned malevolently.  
Elsa slowly stepped out from behind the tree. It was just pure chance she had hit St. North - she hadn't meant to hit him at all. She shot Pitch a tentative glance, wondering if he knew, but he was busy inspecting the razor-thin points of her ice. "I'm sorry," she said, but why, exactly, she couldn't say.  
Pitch ducked around a particularly long spike and leaned in close to where North's face was vaguely visible. "You're a disappointment," he murmured, pressing his fingertips against the ice. "I knew that from the start. But you can improve by finishing what you started."  
She picked her way toward him. "St. North - "  
"I'm not talking to North, I'm talking to you!" Pitch whipped around to glare at her. "Finish what you started: kill him."  
Elsa froze. She glanced from the ice column to Pitch in horror. He couldn't be serious - but he was; she'd seen that look on his face before, and she knew he wasn't joking. "N-No."  
Pitch only shook his head, his lips curving up in a little smile. "Not a request," he purred.  
Elsa was beginning to panic again. "I - I can't," she gasped. She shot a look at St. North. Through the ice, she could see his wide eyes, his face a picture of astonishment. "I can't, I - I can't kill him."  
Pitch's eyes sharpened, but his expression didn't change. "Do it."  
"No. You - you promised, you said I wouldn't - "  
"I did..." Pitch thought about it a moment, then shrugged. "I've changed my mind. Your delusion is over."  
"Delusion?" Elsa whispered. "No. No, I can't - I won't kill a Guardian!"  
Pitch's lips curled back from his teeth. "You won't?" he demanded. "How selective you are, highness - you won't kill Santa Claus, but you have no qualms about killing your own sister?"  
Elsa staggered, as if the words themselves were a physical blow. "I'm not - " she stuttered, "I didn't mean - "  
"What you need to realize is that those white hands of yours are already dirty." He stepped toward her, never once letting his eyes stray from hers. "Stained, with the blood of the snowbound people of Arendelle, and of dear, sweet Anna."  
Her breath was fluttering in her chest, too quick to hold. Her head was pounding, her fingers tingling with the pressure of her power, fighting again to be freed. Elsa dug her hands into her hair. "No," she cried softly. "No, no - Anna - "  
"You murdered her!" Pitch shouted, pressing his face close to hers. "You will always be a force of destruction - a killer! Your sister learned too late not to trust you . You only ever caused her misery and pain. And in those last seconds before her body crystallized, her compassion turned to hate."  
Elsa sank to her knees, shaking her head over and over again. "No," she whispered, "no - " But Pitch was right. Elsa knew he was right. What else would Anna have been thinking? Anna didn't love her - the bond between them had been broken years ago by a simple locked door - but that sympathy, that duty that must have driven Anna to sacrifice herself -   
Nothing but fear.  
Fear, disgust, and hatred. That was all Elsa deserved.  
"It's a pity," Pitch said softly. "No one will ever love you again."  
The words flew out, shocking Elsa. "He might."  
"He?" Pitch mocked. "He who? Don't you think a rescuer might have come for you by now?"  
Elsa stared at him wordlessly. She had no idea where the words had come from, but she clung to them like a lifeline. Jack. Jack Frost. We felt something - together, we felt something. He said... he said - but she couldn't remember his words. Something about fun and laughter - but no, he had called her sad, hadn't he? Elsa took a shaking breath. Why couldn't she remember?  
"Ah, I see," Pitch murmured. He bent down to look into her eyes. "You're holding out hope. Somehow, you met someone and you thought he could see through your frozen heart and the murder in your past to have empathy for you." He clicked his tongue and reached out to stroke her chin. "How desperate you must be, to imagine such a thing. It makes me almost feel sorry for you."  
Desperate... am I? Elsa wondered. The ice was crackling under her skin, making it hard to think. No. No, Jack Frost is real - Elsa tried to remember his face. There had to be something - she had to remember a detail, surely... a smile? No, that was Pitch's smile. His teeth were shinning at her in the darkness.  
"And now you're trying to remember." He chuckled. His fingers moved to trace the line of her throat. "You can't find what isn't there, highness. You know that."  
He was so smooth, so smooth. Elsa shut her eyes. She could sink into that voice and never come up again.  
He could swallow her whole.  
She would never see the light again.  
Elsa jerked back, her eyes flying open. Pitch's hand was left suspended in the air, his eyes hooded and dark. "No," he said. "I do pity you. You looked for a way out - you even tried to invent one." He dropped his arm, his voice hardening. "But there is only this. There is only now. Me. You were born for devastation, and it is time to face the truth!"  
Of course. She should have known. It was a dream - a fantasy. A delusion. There was no Jack Frost, and there never would be. No person, knowing what she was, could linger with her so happily, or talk to her with such acceptance.  
Something inside her - her heart, maybe - twisted in her chest and she could hear the storm inside her wailing - but it was for the best. Elsa realized that she had begun to have hope for something like forgiveness in her life - or maybe just kindness. I'm a fool, she thought. I've only been deceiving myself all along.  
"The truth," Elsa said slowly. The truth was that her parents had been right, all those years ago: conceal, don't feel.  
She had been safest when she felt nothing at all.  
"Yes," Pitch said. He stood in one fluid movement. "Now get up and kill Nicholas St. North!" he commanded.  
The dying cries of her hopes were slowly fading, the rage of ice and snow inside her beginning to melt. Don't feel - yes, she knew how to do that very well. "Don't let them in," she quoted softly, "don't let them see. Be the good girl you always have to be."  
Pitch's eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"  
"I can't be different from what I am. I never should have tried." Elsa slowly stood. She met Pitch's eyes placidly. "I'm not you, Pitch."  
"No, you're nothing!" he spat. "I own you, Elsa, and when I order you to do something, you will do it."  
Again. He used her name again. She hated the sound of it on his tongue - like it was a curse. She hated the memories it brought back, of happier days. Days when I didn't know any better.  
"No," Elsa said. "I'm leaving, Pitch. I'm going far enough away that I won't be a danger to anyone."  
His eyes widened as she turned away. "You're joking. You won't just leave."  
Her silence was eloquent enough.  
He scoffed at her back. "Really? So then this is how you end it - after all that I've done, after everything I've taught you - you've gone squeamish, so now you're running again, like the coward you are - "  
"Say what you will," Elsa said, raising her chin. She didn't know it, but in that moment she looked every inch the queen she used to be. "It's over."  
Pitch hurled abuses after her, everything from taunts, jeers, and his biting sarcasm. Elsa kept walking, her ears deaf to his shouts. She should not have listened to him in the first place. She should not have followed him, should not have let herself be coerced into helping him -  
But it was all too late now. The best she could do was hide herself in a place where she would never have the chance to hurt anyone again. Not even herself.  
And that's exactly what she did.

Pitch did not go after her.  
He thought about it, of course - briefly, but without any serious thought. He had not forgotten that he had no power over Elsa - he never had, even when she was a child. He knew from their practice sessions that his shadow scythe, as deadly as it was, could not endure a battle with her for any length of time. Elsa was too studious a pupil, and along with her extraordinary strength and stamina, her ice blades utterly resisted the shadowflesh he wielded.  
So even though Pitch was dying to take his weapon to the prone St. North, locked in Elsa's ice, he knew it was no use.  
He had to retreat.  
So Pitch went back to his daylight shelter - currently the long-forgotten catacombs of some unnamed ancients - and raged. Elsa would come back, there was no question about that. Where else would she go, after all? She owed him everything. By herself she was nothing. Nothing. Perhaps it would take her a while to come to her senses, but she would come back. And when she did - oh, Pitch would make her pay. She would never leave him again.  
Yet time passed. The pesky Guardians were all bothered about what happened to St. North, so they took it upon themselves to teach Pitch a lesson. They had a knack for catching him at his worst moments, and Pitch cursed Elsa for her tardiness. But he never lost his faith that she would return.  
After a particularly nasty battle, Pitch decided to disappear for a while. He needed a new plan of attack, and that required the Guardians to think they had won. It worked; after a while, they began to believe that they'd gotten rid of him for good. It made Pitch laugh to think how stupid the Man in the Moon and his Guardians could be.  
His idea was clever: nightmares projected directly into children's heads when they were sleeping - a technique inspired by the Sandman's golden sand. It took Pitch a while to perfect it, and as he practiced he sometimes found himself thinking, when Elsa returns, I'll have to teach her how the nightmare sand works. I wonder if it handles like her ice does. If she has forgotten the techniques I taught her for fighting, then I won't have time to reteach her - and then he caught himself, annoyed that he had let himself think of her for so long. Elsa didn't deserve to be thought of, especially if she continued to be so stubborn.  
Why did he even think of her so often, anyway?  
So then Pitch decided to go ahead with his plans without her - he didn't need her, not with his new sand trick - and the Guardians, predictably, tried to stop him. And Pitch would have succeeded if it wasn't for the addition of a new Guardian: Jack Frost. He had amazing powers - almost as good as Elsa's - but in the end he was too committed to the side of goodness and righteousness. They beat Pitch and forced him back down below ground - in the abandoned sewers, now - to think and rage again.  
If Elsa had been there, Pitch would have won. It was as simple as that. Her powers could have negated Jack's, which would have left Pitch the freedom to get rid of the other four in whatever way he wanted. His plans could have worked. They would have worked, if Elsa had been there. He cursed at her and fumed at her from deep underground. It was her fault. It was her fault for everything, and that was why she didn't show her face: she was ashamed, as she should be.  
Well. He wouldn't take her back even if she came. He hadn't needed her from the beginning, and he didn't need her now. She was useless - no, worse than useless, and he didn't need an ally like that dragging him down.  
Elsa was nothing to him. Absolutely nothing.  
But when his angry screams trailed away and the air was still once again, Pitch felt something. Inside him. In the silence, left alone with his thoughts in the cold, dim light, Pitch experienced something he hadn't felt in a long while.  
Regret.


	3. Kingdoms of Isolation

Jack Frost loved Elsa from the first moment he saw her.  
He didn't know it at the time, though.  
That morning when he met her - well, it would be crazy to say it changed his life, but it kind of did: she was the first person he talked to, and the only person who saw him for a long, long while.  
Except that she wasn't a person; she was a spirit, or a legend, or immortal, or whatever. But the point was she was like him.  
And that meant he could see her again.  
Jack lingered in the city where they'd met - that was before he'd figured out the names for the continents and cities, so he'd worried he wouldn't be able to find his way back - and hoped that he would catch a glimpse of her. He couldn't get her out of his head; everything from her soft voice, the shyness of her smile, the way her blue eyes sparkled in the rising sun seemed to call to him. She was beautiful - stupid, stupid, he berated himself when he remembered how the words had just blurted out. She doesn't want to hear that from you - but even more amazing was what happened when they touched. Jack's name wasn't just a name, it was a description of his abilities. He caused frost wherever he went, on whatever he touched. He was the breath of winter, but not on her. His hands, so cold and devoid of heat, stirred with feeling. She was also cold, icy cold - Jack liked to think she was the same temperature that he was - but together they generated a kind of warmth, like sensation returning to frostbitten fingers.  
Like he was returning to life.  
He remembered the recognition on her face, and knew she felt the same.  
They had to be together. They had to - it just made sense.  
With each sunrise, Jack thought about her. Elsa. It was a pretty name - a little foreign-sounding, but lovely. She had corrected him, told him she was the Snow Queen, but Jack didn't accept that. She wasn't a queen - yeah, maybe she was called that, but she wasn't really. She seemed too, well, human to be a sovereign. No, to Jack she was Elsa. Just Elsa. Sad and beautiful.  
He told himself he would make her laugh one day.  
But Elsa never came. Jack waited for her as the seasons quickly changed, as winter bled into spring, then summer. He waited an entire year and she never came. And Jack began to wonder if she ever would.  
She was with Pitch Black. He remembered that, and hated that she was with him, the Bogeyman. Jack had thought that she wasn't happy - he got the impression that she enjoyed her moments of freedom, and savored her stolen time away from Pitch's presence. But as time raced on and Elsa did not appear, Jack began to wonder if he'd got it all wrong. Maybe she was just naturally downcast, maybe she had been on the bridge to meet Pitch, maybe she was perfectly happy serving the Bogeyman - any one of those reasons could be the truth. And Jack realized then that he could be entirely wrong about her; he knew her in his mind, almost as well as he knew himself -  
Except he didn't. He didn't really know her.  
They'd only talked for about five minutes, total. That was it. Just because of the similarities and connection they shared, he'd made assumptions. He'd even done it when they met. And the fact was, Jack didn't know her. Not really.  
Elsa wasn't coming back.  
So Jack left.  
He began to travel again. Along the way he met Santa Claus - several times, actually, and man could the big guy be such a tightwad when he wanted to be - and the Easter Bunny - who didn't deserve to be mentioned except in passing - and the Tooth Fairy and Sandman, though at a distance. He met more beings like himself: people cursed with the same forever-life, stuck on the earth with their own powers or abilities. All of them knew what they were meant to do, or they had at least figured it out.  
And Jack - well, he still had no idea.  
So Jack did what he knew best: he improvised. He messed with Bunny whenever possible, caused trouble, and amused himself through tricks and jokes. He drifted from place to place, always looking for something new to do.  
He kept his eyes and ears open for Pitch, though. He couldn't help it; part of him wanted to see, for himself, that Elsa was really there with the Bogeyman, and that she was actually happy.  
Or maybe he just wanted to see her again.  
In any case, he never saw Pitch. He heard later that the Guardians had a big fight with him, and he was suspected to be dead. The wind brought him a rumor, though, that Pitch might have escaped, but was too weak to launch a counter-attack.  
Jack believed that was the case, but a part of it made him sad; if Pitch had survived, then it must be because Elsa had helped him. And that meant she was still with him.  
He had waited all those months for her in vain.  
But Jack was at heart a cheerful boy, and he wouldn't let himself be sad for long. His years of aimless wanderings had made him familiar with every continent and nearly every city and town. Perhaps the Man in the Moon had simply put him on earth to have fun - that was something he knew he knew how to do. With the world as his playground, he went anywhere whimsy took him: to Niagara, to freeze the falls; to London, to ice the Thames; to the Alps to play pranks on the skiers (there were always so many of them, all over the place, and it was too hard to resist); to Novosibirsk to coat the streets in black ice; to Kuwait to stir up random blizzards; to the Warren to mess with Bunny again; to Rio to freeze the rain - really, there was an endless list of things to do.  
Yet in his heart, Jack wasn't happy. No one could see him and hear him, so none of his jokes could be properly appreciated. There were the Guardians, of course, and the Groundhog and the Leprechaun, but they were all so boring. They could see him, but sometimes he wished they couldn't because they talked to him like a child - like he was too stupid or lazy to do anything else but play tricks on the humans.  
Elsa - yeah, he still thought about her - she never treated him like he was immature, or like he was too young for a proper conversation (the Leprechaun's words, which was hilarious because the Leprechaun himself looked like a little boy with a beard). No, she had talked to him like an adult - like an equal.  
He remembered telling her that he hadn't found his purpose yet. Funny how after all the time since, he still didn't know.  
He wondered if she had decided her purpose was with Pitch.  
Sometimes - not often, but every once in a while - he let himself imagine what would have happened if Elsa had stayed. What if, instead of going back to Pitch, she had looked at him and said, "okay, Jack Frost. I'll go with you"?  
Then he would have taken her hand - not in a dumb, lovesick way, he reminded himself, but in a normal way, like they were friends - because they were friends - and said, "come with me."  
He didn't really have the exact details figured out after that, but he knew they would go on adventures. They could ice skate across the Atlantic Ocean and dance across the Auroras. She would help him ice sidewalks and play against him in snowball fights. And hey, she could even help him mess with Bunny, or even figure out a way into Santa's workshop - if anyone knew their way with a lockpick, he bet it would be Elsa.  
Elsa. Her name still had the power to make him smile. The memory of her warmth was strong, and sometimes it hurt to think of what might have been.   
He hoped she was happy.  
But he couldn't forget her. She was one of the earliest things he remembered after waking up for the first time, and that made her a part of him, in a way. That made her special.  
And even though his memories of her were fading - even though he sometimes forgot the sound of her voice, or the color of her eyes - he wouldn't let himself forget her. Even if his attempts to remember - the what if scenario - became harder and harder to keep up, he promised himself that he would never stop trying. As long as she was in his heart or his brain somewhere, then her memory wouldn't die.  
As long as she was his, then she didn't belong to Pitch.  
Then that day came - the day where he was kidnapped by Santa Claus and told he was a Guardian.  
He didn't believe it.  
Later on he did, of course - it all made sense later, like things always do. And in fact, it was a good thing that he became a Guardian, because he was needed to help save the world from Pitch Black.  
The Bogeyman.  
Elsa wasn't with him. That was the first thing that Jack noticed when they met. He wondered if Pitch was hiding her somewhere, or if he was planning on springing her on them, like she was a secret weapon. Jack waited and waited, but Pitch did nothing. Elsa never appeared. And then, when Pitch proposed that they be allies -  
Well. Jack knew something was wrong.  
He meant to ask Pitch about her. He wanted to ask, even when the Bogeyman insisted on leading him in circles - literally and verbally - down underground, acting as the distraction for the destruction above. Jack meant to ask about Elsa, but then one thing led to another, and suddenly the fate of all things good and happy was stake and she kind of slipped his mind for a while.  
But when Pitch was finally put away and his monstrous nightmares with him, Jack decided he couldn't wait any longer.  
He had to know.  
He told the other Guardians he missed going where the wind led him (and that he had a sneaking suspicion that if he stuck with them for much longer, he'd start resembling Bunny. They didn't appreciate it - especially Bunny - but hey, it was true), and that got him off the hook for a while. He gave Baby Tooth back to Toothiana - he wouldn't start another war if he could help it - and let the wind guide him to an entry into Pitch Black's underground domain.  
It didn't take the Bogeyman long to realize he had a visitor. His voice whispered up to Jack from the shadows, sounding as if it came from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Jack Frost. To what do I owe the honor of your presence?"  
Jack hunched his shoulders, bringing the crooked staff up in an attack position. "No games, Pitch," he called. "I just have a couple of questions."  
"Perhaps you're too new at this Guardian business, but let me give you a piece of advice." Suddenly his voice changed, swooping down into a snarl. "You maybe have beaten me in the upper world, but this realm down here is mine. No one, not even the Man in the Moon can protect you from my wrath here!"  
Pitch's shadow materialized behind him on the wall. Jack whirled around, but Pitch himself was nowhere in sight. "I said I just have questions," he said firmly. "I don't want to fight you."  
His voice twisted, serpentine, around him. "I'm not sure I believe you."  
"North and the others - they don't know I'm here." Jack's eyes flickered left and right, searching for the Bogeyman. Even in defeat Pitch was dangerous, and Jack wanted to be prepared in case he tried anything. "I just want to know something, then I'll leave you alone."  
"Really?" He sounded more solid, somehow - less like vapor, and more like a living being. Jack turned to see Pitch standing on the fallen wreckage of the globe, his hands hidden behind his back.  
"Really," Jack assured him.  
"Hm." His golden eyes looked Jack over briefly before he turned away. "No, I'm not in the mood."  
Jack a few quick steps toward him. "It's about Elsa."  
Pitch stopped. For a few seconds he stood there, utterly still, as if the words had stolen the life right out of him. Then, very slowly, his head turned. "The Snow Queen?"  
"Elsa," Jack repeated stubbornly. "Where is she?"  
"Why would I care about something like that? No, but the better question is..." His body shifted toward Jack, his yellow eyes glowing malevolently "...why would you care about it?"  
"She traveled with you. You knew her, so you must know where she is."  
"Oh, well then, I suppose I must." Pitch turned away. He leapt down off the globe and vanished into the darkness.  
Jack flung out his arm, the staff swinging in a broad arc. "Tell me!" he shouted.  
"Why are you so interested in her, anyway?" Pitch asked. He suddenly loomed forward on Jack's left, and the boy scrambled back. "No one even knew she existed except me. Not even St. North seemed to realize, and she's been around longer than the tradition of Christmas. So how could you know about her?"  
"Because she told me!" Jack exclaimed, glaring.  
"She told - " Abruptly Pitch drew back, his eyes widening. His jaw went slack and for a long moment he said nothing at all.  
"Something got your tongue, Pitch?" he taunted, which was probably the wrong thing to do; Pitch's mouth snapped shut and his eyes darted to Jack's face.  
"You met her." It wasn't a question - merely a statement. But underneath the emotionless tone, Jack could sense a black fury.  
"Yeah. I did." He met Pitch's gaze unwaveringly.  
"And what did you say to her?" Pitch hissed.  
"Plenty of things," Jack fired back. "Nothing I want to tell you." He knew he sounded petulant, but he didn't want to repeat them; the things he said to Elsa belonged to her, and her alone.  
Besides, he certainly didn't want to admit that he had told Elsa to leave pitch.  
The Bogeyman's eyes burned into his, as if eye contact alone could force Jack to confess. Then Pitch blinked. His lips curved up at the corner and a chuckle sounded deep in his throat. The smile turned into a grin and he laughed, loud and long. Jack stared at him, wondering what was suddenly so funny. He went over the conversation in his head, but couldn't see anything that might have set Pitch off -  
"Ah," Pitch said. He looked down at Jack, the wide smile still on his face. "Yes, I see now."  
Jack frowned. "How could you - "  
"Let me guess," Pitch interrupted. He flicked his wrist and waved a hand airily as he spoke. "You met the Snow Queen once a long time ago, talked of useless and trivial things that you've now interpreted into something meaningful, and you've been thinking about her ever since."  
Jack blinked. "Uh... well..." He struggled to come up with an intelligent response but came up short. "...yeah."  
Pitch nodded and strode past him. "Yes, she does tend to have that affect. I suppose I'm not really surprised she would appeal to you - like attracts like, and all that." He paused. "And apparently your teenage hormones have begun to kick in."  
"My - what?" Jack gaped at Pitch. "Ye - no. No. I don't even wanna talk about that."  
Pitch only smirked.  
"What happened to her? Elsa." Jack softly set his staff against the ground. He looked up in time to see the smallest flare of reaction on Pitch's face at the mention of her name - there, then gone. "Where is she?"  
Pitch started walking again. "Well, obviously she isn't here."  
"Yes, I can see that - "  
"And she hasn't been here in a very long while."  
Jack ran ahead to plant himself in front of Pitch, effectively blocking his way. "So then where did she go?"  
He rolled his head to the side and huffed out an irritated sigh. "You aren't going to let this go. Are you?"  
"No." Jack's hand tightened around his staff. "I'm not."  
Pitch fixed him with an annoyed glare. "Fine. We had a falling out."  
"Who broke it off?"  
His lip curled. "The Snow Queen did."  
"Over what?"  
"A little dispute over killing someone."  
Jack nodded. "She wouldn't do it. You tried to force her, but that was the last straw." A smile broke over his face. Yes, that was Elsa, alright. He knew she wouldn't do something so terrible as murder a person.  
"Not quite correct," Pitch said, stepping around Jack, "but then, I really don't care enough about it to correct you."  
"Not so fast." Jack raised his staff and Pitch slowed. "Why didn't you go after her? You were using her like you wanted to use me, so that means she was important to you."  
"If that's what you think."  
"No, I know I'm right. You could have gone after her, but you didn't. Why? Why didn't you bring her back?"  
"I told you, I - "  
"Why did you let her go?"  
Pitch spun around, his voice booming through the cavernous room. "Because I have no power over her!"  
Jack's eyes widened. "You - you what?"  
"I have no power," he enunciated nastily. "I never have."  
"Then how - "  
"I'm persuasive. You of all people should know that." His gaze slid away from Jack dismissively. "The Snow Queen has few weaknesses, but they were vital and simple to exploit."  
"Her fears," Jack said quietly.  
"Of course." Pitch shrugged. "In the end, she couldn't take it - she broke so easily. A disappointment. I knew she would be from the start. I should have gotten rid of her, but she was too much fun to have around."  
"Fun?" Jack repeated. He looked up at Pitch. The Bogeyman looked back at him, mock innocence written all over his face, and Jack knew he had walked into a trap.  
"Yes," he said smoothly, steepling his fingers together. "She was, after all, with me longer than you've been around, so we had our... moments."  
Jack's stomach twisted uneasily. He knew Pitch was leading him on, but he couldn't help himself. "What do you mean?"   
"Memories, Jack. You forgot all about yours, but for the Snow Queen, hers were crystal clear. They plagued her, crippled her. She needed me to break her from their hold." His lips stretched in a smile, thin and skeletal. "Want to know what I did?"  
Jack gritted his teeth. If Pitch was hinting at - "No."  
Pitch tapped his fingers against his mouth. "Moments."  
"No. No, you're lying! Elsa - Elsa could never love you!" He brandished his staff angrily.  
Pitch scoffed, but there was an uncertainty there, an uncomfortable look in his eyes as he looked away. "I couldn't say. Who knew what the Snow Queen was really feeling inside her heart of ice?"  
"I could," Jack said boldly.  
"You? You met her once, and you understood her at the time. What do you think has happened to her since?"  
"Nothing I can't change."  
"Hm. I'd like to see you try." He arched his eyebrows. "Especially after she spent so long with me, the Nightmare King. Me, the ultimate corruptor. Even I didn't fail to leave my mark on her. She's different than you remember."  
Jack shook his head. "If that's true, then it doesn't explain why you didn't at least try to get her back - "  
"I did; I came back from visiting her a few days ago."  
He stared. For once, Pitch's face didn't have the sneaky look that hinted he was lying about something.  
Pitch misread Jack's silence and groaned in exasperation. "She's fine, just fine. The adage still holds true: ignorance is bliss."  
"Where is she?" The words rushed out of Jack, hope bubbling in his voice. He took a few steps forward, knowing he probably looked and sounded terribly desperate - but he couldn't help it. This was what he wanted to know. This was what he had been yearning to hear from the moment Elsa left him.  
He had to know. He had to.  
Jack expected Pitch to refuse - the Bogeyman hadn't given any information voluntarily, not from the start, so why would this have been any different? It didn't look as though Pitch was going to answer, either; he wore a vaguely disinterested expression as his eyes slowly moved over Jack's face - deciding whether or not to answer. And he's better tell me, Jack thought impatiently, or I might have to beat it out of him.  
"No," Pitch murmured eventually. "I suppose it won't matter much, anyway - she won't want to see you."  
"The hell she will," Jack snapped, starting forward. "You have no right to decide that for her - "  
Pitch's hand shot out, pushing Jack back a few steps. "Just stating a fact."  
Jack snarled, shoving Pitch's hand away. "I said no games. You'll tell me, or else - "  
"I was going to, but I didn't think you'd have to ask." Pitch straightened his shoulders and stared down at Jack. "Ask yourself: where does anyone go when they want to be alone? Where did you go?"  
Jack's eyes widened. "Antarctica," he gasped. "Is that... is that where she is?"  
"You weren't too far away, when you decided to have your little tantrum."  
"When I found my memories," Jack corrected, but already he was calculating how long it would take to get there. With a strong eastern wind, he could catch the currents above the Pacific and ride them down to the southern trades and around the outer edge of Africa and be down in Antarctica by this time tomorrow...  
And be with Elsa.  
There was nothing else to decide. Jack couldn't stop the feeling of excitement that was rushing up inside him, making his heart race. He nodded to Pitch as he skipped back a few steps, eager to be on his way. Elsa. Elsa, I'm coming.  
The wind stirred his hair, calling him. "Thanks!" he shouted to Pitch and then he was up, out - and the land was falling away below him, carrying him onwards into the bright afternoon sky, on and on towards her.  
He would be there soon.

Pitch, finally alone in the darkness, didn't move for a long while.   
He should have lied to Jack. It would have been more amusing if he had - at least for a while.  
But then again, it didn't really matter, did it?  
Now that he thought about it, Pitch wasn't surprised that Jack had met Elsa. They were similar, of course, even beyond their snow-powers. He suspected that it was her sorrow and her great beauty that captured the boy's heart. Pitch couldn't grudge him that. After all, it was those same things that kept drawing Pitch to her when she grew older, outside of his usual realm of surveillance.  
He studied the empty cages hanging in the darkness and listened to the silence that now filled his ears. He tried to imagine Elsa living there, in the partially-collapsed sewers - there with him, as things used to be. But already Pitch knew how useless that would be.  
She would say no. She wouldn't come now, not even if he begged.  
"Ah," Pitch said aloud, softly. He knew then that he had lost the battle for Elsa a long time ago - longer ago than he had believed. Perhaps he had never stood a chance to begin with.  
He had been defeated the moment she saw Jack Frost.

Jack knew he had found her when he saw the sparkle of silver amid the glaring white of the raging snowstorm. It was Elsa's work, he knew: a slim tower, like a needle of glass, nestled between two jagged peaks in the middle of a desolate and undiscovered mountain range. It was the easiest thing in the world to calm the flying snow and pass down into the eye of the storm to the single pointed door at the base of the tower. He flew up the long spiral staircase, all the way to the top where there was a single room -   
And Elsa.  
She was standing at a window, peering out. She looked exactly the way Jack remembered her - slim and beautiful, the spirals of snowflakes that composed her train winking at him in the muted light. Jack glanced down at himself as his feet silently touched the smooth ice floor. He looked - well, he looked like a snow dusted teenager, especially in his blue hoodie. Elsa looked like a queen.  
Would she even speak to him?  
Of course she will, Jack assured himself, inhaling slowly. She talked to me even when I was wearing the ragged wool clothes I woke in. She doesn't care about something like that.  
But for some reason his heart was pounding, as if it was trying to jump out of his chest. Was his hair okay? He quickly brushed at it with one hand, but he was pretty sure he only made it worse. Then he realized what was wrong and almost laughed out loud. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden?  
Because it's her, he thought. After all this time, I'm finally going to -   
"Okay, shut up," he whispered to himself. "That's not helping."  
He took a few steps toward her. What would he say to introduce himself? Nothing sounded right - everything sounded stupid in his head. Why was he being such an idiot about this?  
"Elsa," he said softly. He waited for her to turn and look -   
She didn't. He must have been too quiet.  
Jack took a couple more steps forward and tapped the bottom of his staff against the ground. "Elsa," he called.  
She still didn't move. As Jack moved closer, she lifted one hand and made a twirling motion. Suddenly the snow began to blow, moving faster and faster until it blotted out the mountainous landscape in a haze of white. She watched the storm for a moment, her head tilted a little, and Jack saw more clearly the faint color that naturally graced the curve of her cheek.  
"It's a good barrier," Jack commented, watching her, "but it can't keep out everyone."  
Then Elsa turned and Jack grinned expectantly -   
And she began to walk away.  
"Whoa, hang on!" He hurried after her. "I know it's been a while, but you don't have to ignore me." He lunged, reaching for her shoulder -   
And she passed right through him.  
"No," Jack breathed. It couldn't be. No, it was impossible. "Elsa!" he cried. "Elsa, I'm right here! Elsa!"  
But she didn't turn. She can't see me, Jack thought, his eyes going wide. Never in any of his what-if scenarios did he think this might happen. It just wasn't possible - they had met, talked. She had seen him before.  
She can't see me.  
"She can't - she can't see me," he gasped. Deep inside him, something hurt. His free hand clenched the hoodie over his chest, and he squeezed his eyes together. Not her, he pleaded - wishing once, just once that the Man in the Moon was listening. Not her. Please, not Elsa...  
She couldn't see him. Jack knew why he was invisible to her now, and it broke his heart.  
Elsa no longer believed he was real.


	4. Winter's Spell

There was only one reason why Elsa was like this, and Jack knew exactly who was to blame. As quickly as he came, Jack flew back to New England and directly into Pitch's lair.  
"Where are you?" he shouted the moment he set foot on the crumbling grey concrete. "Where are you, Pitch Black?"  
The Bogeyman stepped out of the shadows on a broken landing several yards away, across the wide expanse of the derelict chamber. "That was fast," he said in that lazy way of his. "Not quite what you expected?"  
Jack launched himself toward Pitch, ice crackling out of his staff. "What did you do?" Pitch leapt out of the way and Jack followed, flinging streaks of frost after him. "What the hell did you do to her? She wasn't like this before, so it was you. You did something - what was it?"  
Pitch evaded Jack's furious thrust and deftly side-stepped into the wall, completely vanishing into the darkness. Jack slammed the crook of his cane against the arching rock, creating an instant latticework of silver frost. "Stop hiding!" he roared, turning to glare at the shadows. "What did you do to Elsa?"  
"Nothing much. Nothing at all, really."  
Pitch's whispered voice came from the left. Jack whirled around, but saw only darkness. "That's a lie. You know she didn't believe in me anymore! You knew it!"  
"I suspected."   
It sounded as though Pitch was speaking directly behind him. Jack turned, his hand tightening around his staff. "Come out!"  
"And risk your ire the moment I do? No."  
He groaned, the cavern echoing with his pent-up fury. "Undo it," he demanded. "Undo this right now. Go to Elsa and tell her - "  
"So you can find happiness with her? No." His voice, sneering and dismissive, began to drift away.  
"You will," Jack said, "even if I have to freeze this entire place and drag you out myself. You will fix this." He swung his staff, frosting the walls and ground around him with the sharp snap of crackling ice.  
Pitch was silent for a few seconds, and Jack knew he was being watched from the safety of the shadows' embrace. "Even if I could," the Bogeyman said slowly, "I wouldn't do it."  
"The hell does that mean?"  
"The Snow Queen believed someone would come to her - to rescue her, to save her." There was a note of the usual sarcasm in Pitch's voice, but it seemed muted somehow. Jack frowned, realizing that Pitch wasn't mocking Elsa - not really. "Well. No one ever came."  
"Did you tell her that no one ever would?" Jack asked dangerously. "Is that how you got her to doubt me?"  
"She drew that conclusion on her own. No, she wondered where you were - her mysterious savior. I had no idea what she meant; I only learned that it was you two days ago."  
"So what did you say?" Jack asked, steeling himself for the answer he knew was coming.  
All of a sudden Pitch's voice was there, murmuring in his ear. "I told her you weren't real."  
Jack gritted his teeth and shut his eyes.  
"Of course, then she ran. Been gone ever since." Pitch's voice drew back and Jack felt his presence pull away.  
"But you visited her." Jack resisted the urge to glare at Pitch and instead opened his eyes again to stare at the blackness of the empty tunnels before him. "You said you went to go see her."  
"A few days ago," he replied softly.  
"And?"  
"And... you are not the only one she doesn't believe in, anymore."  
Then Jack did turn. He stared at Pitch in astonishment as the Bogeyman opened his hands eloquently, as if he meant, what else can I say?  
"She can't see you either," Jack realized.  
Pitch shrugged, but there was a grave solemnity to the motion. "I cannot help you."  
"Yeah," he said, the fury mounting in his voice. "And I hope you're happy. Look what you did! Not only did you corrupt her, but you've practically destroyed her dreams!"  
Pitch turned away. "That's what I do."  
"Well, you did it too well - and you did it to her. Elsa didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve any of this!"  
He scoffed, but there was no mirth in it.  
"You." Jack pointed an accusing finger at Pitch's back. "You act like you didn't care and you say you never did, but you do. Even you, with your black heart, can't help but feel something. So fix it. Not for me, but for her - "  
But Pitch was already shaking his head. "No point," he said. "She's lost, Jack."  
"She is not - "  
"You can't do anything for her now. Just leave her alone." Pitch walked into the shadows, his long coat hissing softly as it slithered over the ground. His voice carried eerily back to Jack, like a phantom on the wind. "That's the only kindness you can give to her now."  
Jack's hand tightened on his staff. No. No. He had fought too long to find her, searched the world for a mere rumor of her, and endured the Bogeyman just to hear a word - no. No, there had to be something he could do.  
Something. Anything.  
And he was a Guardian, for crying out loud. That had to count for something.  
He wasn't going to abandon her. Elsa was too great, too precious to just forget her. He just couldn't think how to wake her from the prison of her mind -  
Then he remembered how once, long ago, he had promised himself that he would see her laugh one day. He still wanted to hear her voice, to watch her eyes smile, to feel the touch of her warm skin against his cheek...  
I will, Jack Frost thought. I'll be the one to bring her back.  
I'll save her.  
"I will," Jack whispered, and let the wind take him away.

He came in through the window this time, and touched down gently on the floor. He saw Elsa turn inquisitively, and for a moment he thought that she had actually seen him - and then he realized that it was just the wind that had caught her attention. Then her gaze fell on the window and a frown crossed her face. "What?" she asked softly, and moved to take a closer look. Jack leaned against the wall, watching her take in the sight: every snowflake of the storm was frozen, suspended in a sort of timeless stillness. She stared, her eyes widening in amazement, and Jack couldn't help but chuckle.   
"What is this?" she murmured. "This is the second time..."  
"But not the last, that's for sure," Jack commented. He spread his fingers apart, ice blossoming and twisting together above his palm until it created a small snowflake. He looked up at Elsa. Now let's hope this works as well on you as it did on Jamie," he said, and gently blew on the snowflake. It lifted into the air and spiraled toward her -  
It dissolved the moment it touched her forehead. Jack smiled but his heart was beating fast again - way too fast. He gripped his staff for assurance.  
Elsa wrinkled her nose and blinked a few times. She turned toward him and started violently. "Oh!" she gasped. Then her expression changed - just for a moment there was something like fear on her face, and then, abruptly, she smoothed it away. "Oh," she said again and took a deliberate step back. "I'm sorry, I didn't know I had... a visitor."  
Jack swallowed. His anxiety had faded the moment he saw her fear and he knew, even before she spoke, that she didn't remember him. That would have been too easy, I guess, he thought as his eyes flickered to his hand on his staff. Shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.  
Elsa was looking at him, her deep blue eyes searching his. It hurt to see her look at him so intensely and know she didn't remember him. Jack tried to smile, but he couldn't, somehow. He just couldn't make the muscles move. "Sorry," he told her. "I... I move pretty quietly."  
"Yes, you do," she agreed.  
Jack realized then that she was standing with her hands clasped behind her back - just like Pitch. That was his favorite arrogant stance, and somehow Elsa had adopted it - ! Jack took a deep breath. He was trying so hard to keep the anguished emotions from his face that he almost missed Elsa's next words.  
"Could I... do you mind if I ask how you got here?" She sounded almost nervous. "How did you get through the storm?"  
"I stopped it." He motioned to the window.  
"You... you can control ice, too?" she asked.  
Her voice was a little breathless, and the corner of Jack's lips tipped upward to hear it. "Ice, snow, frost - you name it, I can do it," he said.  
"Oh," she said. "Oh." Then she pulled her hands out from behind her back and sighed. "Then you're like me."  
"Yeah," he said softly. "I'm like you."  
"My name is Elsa." She waited a beat for his response, then prompted, "and yours?"  
Jack swallowed again. Jack, he wanted to say, Jack Frost, but he couldn't. They'd had this conversation before, and he didn't think he could do it all again.  
He really thought she'd remember. He'd been betting on the snowflake trick to work and, failing that, he'd hoped that he'd made a big enough impression on her that she would recognize his face. But she didn't - she didn't remember him at all.  
Maybe she never would.  
Maybe she didn't want to recognize him.  
That thought, more than anything else, had the ability to shatter him. There was a lump in his throat and a doubt in his heart, and he couldn't respond.  
Elsa took a step closer. "You're pale as winter," she said, her eyes moving up the front of his frost-dusted hoodie and to his face.  
"Winter," he echoed dully, reaching up to comb his hand through the side of his hair. It was close, granted, but it wasn't close enough.  
A small smile touched her face. "I like it," Elsa said. "It fits you, somehow."  
Jack looked at her in confusion for a moment, and then suddenly he understood. "Oh, uh, that's not - "  
Elsa looked at him expectantly, but Jack couldn't finish. He wanted to correct her, but he couldn't. He just - he just couldn't bear the thought of it. He imagined her saying his name with the same sort of emptiness she was using now, without the warmth and familiarity as before -   
"No," he said, "that's fine. I've just - I've gotta go." He turned away before she could see the horror in his eyes.  
He flew away - far enough away so she wouldn't be able to follow, but close enough so he could still see her tower winking in the distance - until he reached a solitary peak. There he let his feelings of pain and disappointment and anger loose in a wild scream - at Elsa, for forgetting him; at Pitch, for destroying all that she had been, and at himself, for letting it all happen.  
When his voice wore out and he finally felt hollow, just a shell of himself, then he sank to his knees. He shut his eyes against the tears that washed away his view of Elsa's storm and dropped his head into his hands.

He came back to her a few days later.  
He couldn't not come back; with Elsa's storm always in sight and the memories of her smile constantly pulling him, beckoning him onwards, he thought it was a wonder that he took even that long.  
She looked up as the wind dropped him on the windowsill, and Jack saw once again the flash of fear on her face before it cleared. "Winter," she greeted in surprise.  
He lifted a hand. "Hey. I'm - uh, I'm back."  
She nodded, but her eyes were grave. "You left so quickly - I was beginning to wonder if I had imagined you."  
Jack couldn't help but flinch at that.  
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, taking a few steps closer. "If you left because I offended you in any way - "  
He shook his head. "No, it wasn't you. It... wasn't."  
"Good," Elsa said. They stood there, looking at each other, and Jack thought, oh no, not an awkward silence. Say something, say anything -  
"What can you do?" he blurted out, and Elsa looked at him in surprise. He cleared his throat. "With your powers, I mean."  
"Well... " She motioned to the storm outside.  
Jack leaned on his staff and smiled knowingly at her. "I bet you made this tower, didn't you?"  
Her eyes darted around the wide room, almost as if she had forgotten it was there. "Yes," she said. "Long ago."  
''Hmm." He pretended to look critically at the floors and walls. "It's good, but it needs something... that's right." He grinned at her. "Decoration."  
She looked at him uncertainly. "Decoration?"  
"Sure." He flipped his staff around and touched it against the ground. Frost radiated out under his feet, curling out in twisting, lace-like designs. "See?" he said approvingly as her eyes widened. "It looks better already."  
"You use your staff to channel your power?" she asked, looking from the ground up to him.  
"Yeah. For some reason, I can't really do it with my bare hands." He shrugged and twirled his staff back to its upright position. "It's like a conduit, I guess. But it's okay - I don't mind."  
"Conduit?" she repeated.  
Whoops. That was a modern word, so she probably wasn't familiar with it. "Yeah," he said, "like a catalyst, I guess. Without my staff, I'm not - " He almost said I'm not Jack Frost, but he managed to catch himself in time. "I'm not me," he amended.  
"Yes. I suppose without my powers, I wouldn't be me, either." Elsa glanced at the ground and then up at Jack. She took a few steps back, then dug the heel of her foot purposefully against the ground. Ice shot out, geometric and complicated, fanning out until it created an enormous snowflake on the ground. When she looked up at him, Jack was nodding appreciatively.  
"It looks better already," he told her. "But y'know, the rest of the floor looks pretty bare."  
Elsa met his gaze. Without speaking, she moved to another part of the room. Jack grinned, mirroring her. In no time at all the floor was covered with spiraling designs that twisted and intwined with enormous snowflakes, like an etched mosaic in the floor. Jack moved on to the walls and Elsa followed, her fingertips dancing in time to the soft scraping sound of Jack's staff across the ice. When they met on the far side of the room, Elsa was actually so focused on the task that her hand grazed the back of his. She stilled immediately, her eyes darting to their hands. A delicate sparkle of frost had bloomed along his knuckles, and she stared at it for a few moments in shock.   
"Your hand..." she began, but trailed off.   
Jack realized he was holding his breath and turned to look at Elsa, waiting for her to remember. You can, you know, he wanted to say. Remember this. Remember the past.  
Remember me.  
Quickly she drew her hand away and turned her head, hiding her eyes. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I don't know what came over me."  
"It's alright," Jack said, even though it wasn't.  
"I just... for a minute, your hand seemed..." she faltered.  
"Warm?" he supplied.  
She nodded and glanced back at him. Jack looked into her eyes and searched her face, but he saw nothing there except puzzlement. There was no curiosity, no pleasure or joy - not even a flicker of recollection. Elsa showed none of the emotions that he had once seen when she touched him before. Jack had expected it, but it hurt all the same.  
That terrible, terrible emptiness was there in her eyes, and it haunted him.  
"I've got to go," he said.  
"Alright," she said.  
That was all. Just a one-word response, and it felt like a slap in Jack's face. Elsa - his Elsa - would never have said that. She never would have accepted his sudden departure so easily - she would have said goodbye, at least.  
He stopped at the window and turned back. "I don't know when I'll be back."  
"That's fine." She looked at him placidly.  
"So you really don't care?" he asked.  
She blinked. "Care? I don't... I don't understand."  
Jack groaned quietly. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... even though you only met me a couple days ago, would you care if I don't come back?"  
She only looked at him. "I don't know."  
Elsa was telling the truth; Jack just had to take one look at her face, and he knew. The sorrow spiked inside him and he nodded slowly.  
"Okay," he said, and his voice sounded lost, even to his own ears. "Okay. I understand."  
He left before she could see the disappointment on his face.

The days began to fall into a similar sort of pattern: Jack would come and visit Elsa for a while, but leave when his feelings of misery or anguish conquered his ability to pretend them away. Then, after his confidence and hope had bounced back, he returned to see her.  
At first they only talked. Well, really it was just Jack who talked; Elsa's comments always brought the conversation to a dead end, so Jack had to compensate. He told her about some of the adventures he'd gone on: trips all around the world and all the jokes he'd played on people. But even as he talked, Jack realized how little he had actually done in his years leading to the present. His pranks, while fun at the time, were pretty much all the same in retrospect.  
It kind of made him sad, that he had wasted his time like that.  
Jack tried to tell Elsa about the Guardians, but she wouldn't let him; every time he brought up North, Bunny, or the others, Elsa shut her eyes and turned away. She told him she didn't want to hear about them and, when he asked why, she only got up and walked away.  
So then Jack told Elsa about Jamie. She listened to Jack's tale about how Jamie was the first human boy who had actually seen him, and how gloriously wonderful it was to be noticed. She listened with an air of seriousness and when he finished, she said, "but I don't understand why you would want to be seen in the first place."  
Jack sat back, surprised. "Because I never had been, before." Except for you, he added silently. "Because it sort of felt like I was being ignored. Like there was no point to me being here - like I had no purpose."  
Elsa smiled faintly. "And that mattered very much to you."  
He looked up at her, searching for any signs of memory in her face. "Do you know what yours is? Your purpose, I mean?"  
"Of course." She clasped her arms tightly around her knees. "I'm going to stay here, where no one will find me."  
Jack's mouth fell open. "What?"  
"If I conceal myself, if no one knows I'm here, then no one will be hurt by my powers." She glanced at Jack, almost reassuringly. "You share my curse, so you are safe from me."  
"Is that what you believe?" Jack asked. His voice was soft with disbelief and pain. How could she think that her purpose was to - to exile herself and pretend she didn't exist? "Do you really think that's true?" he asked her.  
She met his gaze. "I know it is."  
The words welled up inside him, longing to be freed - Elsa, why would you think that? You are beautiful and kind, and you would never hurt anyone. You were meant for more, so much more - but he knew she wouldn't listen.   
"It doesn't make you happy," he told her quietly.  
She shrugged one shoulder. "I don't mind. Really. I don't."  
He knew she didn't mind - that made it all the more tragic.  
Jack got up to leave. Elsa watched him silently, just like she always did. At the window, he turned back for his final word. "You aren't a monster. You aren't, Elsa."  
She only looked away.

Then Jack decided that talking was the wrong approach to bring Elsa back. The first day had gone well, when they had made frost together, so maybe some more activities were in order. He told her to follow him outside and asked if she knew any winter games.  
"A few," she admitted. "But I haven't... I haven't played any in years."  
"That's okay," he said, ignoring the dubious look that crossed her face. "It'll all come back to you in no time. How about a snowball fight?"  
She shook her head. "Not today."  
"No? Alright. We could make snow angels, or build a snowman - "  
"No!"  
Jack stared at Elsa, her panicked shout still ringing in the air. She looked stricken, her face twisted in sudden agony. She took a shaking breath and pressed her fingers against her temples, wincing. "No," she said, and her sweet voice was hoarse. "No, please - anything but that."  
"Sure," he said. "Sure, okay." He wanted to go to her, to take her hand and ask her what was wrong, but he didn't want to frighten her, or worse: risk receiving a dead stare in return. It was a paralyzing feeling - one he had felt every single day he saw her.  
He wished the old Elsa could return.  
He wished he knew how to bring her back.  
"So, snow angels, then?" he asked.  
She sent him a relieved look, and Jack felt the pain in his heart lift slightly. It was the first hint of real emotion he had seen from her, and he hoped that increased activity would bring more to the surface.  
They made snow angels and went sledding, skiing, and ice skating. One day, Jack was even able to convince her to build a fort and have a small snowball fight with him. But through it all, no matter what Jack tried, he couldn't get an honest response from her. Elsa did smile, but there was no mirth in it; her smiles were an exercise in muscle movement only, not an expression of merriment. It was utterly empty, like all her words had been. There was almost no emotion in her at all.  
It hurt.  
Jack assumed the pain would go away in time; he figured that either Elsa would get better and he wouldn't have a reason to be sad anymore, or he would just become used to the fact that she wasn't the same girl he remembered and move on from there.  
It didn't.  
He hadn't counted on his enduring hope that he might show up one day and Elsa would be the way she used to be: kind but sad, with all her memories back.  
That never happened. Jack knew it wouldn't happen - of course he did - but somehow he still expected it.  
He hadn't taken into account his damned optimism, either. Going back, expecting Elsa to have improved - expecting that he could change her - it was too much. He couldn't take the brutal roller coaster of feelings that she made in him.  
It was killing him.  
Maybe not literally, but sometimes he felt like it.  
Jack blamed himself. If only he had tried to find her earlier, if only he had said something different to her that day, if only he could find a way to make Elsa remember him -  
He cursed Pitch, but he knew it wasn't entirely the Bogeyman's fault. Not really.  
It was his.  
Jack's confidence began to erode. Why couldn't he get through to Elsa? What was he doing wrong? Elsa wasn't interested in fun - she wasn't interested in anything. And, Jack suspected, she wasn't really interested in him, either. No matter how he tried to bring some cheer to her life, no matter how many jokes he told or fun things they did together, it didn't seem to matter. Nothing got through to her.  
But then again, he had been a failure for so long that it shouldn't have been surprising.  
His faith began to fail. If he - if even a Guardian - couldn't help Elsa, then who could? He had always sort of thought that she could remember him if she wanted to, and Jack just had to trigger the hidden memories somehow. But as time passed, he decided that he was wrong; her memory was well and truly gone. He was just wasting his time, and Elsa would never open up to him. This new Elsa, this fragment of her former self - that was all she would ever be.  
The old Elsa was never coming back.  
He began to dread his visits. Jack hated that - he wanted to make progress and he wanted that to be the reason he was going back, but it wasn't. Every time he saw Elsa, when she looked up as the wind announced his presence, the look of attentive surprise on her face always made him think, maybe, just maybe, she'll remember -  
But it was just his hopes playing with him. Her expression always fell away, back into her usual blank look, and each time that made it harder and harder to stay.  
He knew her face by heart: her wide eyes, blue as deep ice, and her pale face with its delicate sprinkle of pale freckles across her nose. He knew the cadence of her soft voice, and the rhythm of her footsteps across the floor. He knew the design of her ice-spun train and could count the snowflakes in her hair with his eyes closed. He knew her now, better than ever - but he didn't really know her.  
So really, he was right back where he started.  
Except it was worse, in every way possible.  
To be with Elsa, but to be so far away from her, with no hope of being close -  
It was the worst kind of pain.  
Sometimes he wished he was dying. Maybe then the pain would go away.   
If he was gone, maybe then he would mean something to her.  
Maybe that would bring her back.

Winter was unhappy.  
He tried not to let it show, but Elsa could tell.  
It was obvious in the little things, like his tired smile and weak laugh. He no longer told her stories, and there was a hesitation in his voice when he greeted her or spoke to her. And when he came to visit, he only watched her with an injured look on his face.  
Sometimes Elsa wondered what was wrong. She wanted to ask him, but she suppressed the desire. Conceal, don't feel - that was what her parents had always taught her, and the advice had never steered her wrong before.  
Besides, she thought, Winter will probably leave soon, anyway. It would be best if I cared as little as possible.  
Then it will hurt less.  
Elsa knew he was going; she could see it in his eyes. He was detached, withdrawn. One day he probably would stop coming altogether.  
Just like everyone else.  
It will be very soon, Elsa thought, glancing up as Winter touched down inside the window. There was a deep weariness to his face that had been growing ever since he arrived, and Elsa decided that this might be his last visit.  
And I won't feel, she told herself. I won't care.  
As always, she waited for him to speak. Winter usually greeted her brightly and then jumped right into a story or a suggestion for the day, but this time he stayed silent. Elsa glanced his way a few times, wondering what he could be doing.  
Winter was just standing there, his hand on his staff, staring out the window.  
When he finally spoke a few minutes later, it was a single word: her name.  
"Elsa."  
There was something in his voice - something that was soft and emotional, something that caught her breath, though she couldn't pinpoint why. She turned, and he was looking at her, his blue eyes like the deep, treacherous waters of a stormy ocean.  
"Elsa," he said, and his voice was heavy and strained. "Do I make you happy?"  
"Happy?" she echoed. It was an odd question, and she tilted her head inquisitively to one side. "What do you mean?"  
His throat worked as he repositioned his grip on his staff. "I mean," he said slowly, "do you feel happy when I come? When you see me, when I visit... are you glad?"  
Elsa looked away. "I don't know."  
"Then what do you feel? Sad? Angry?"  
"I don't know." Elsa looked away from the intense burn in his eyes. Conceal, she told herself. Don't feel.  
"You don't know, or you don't care?" Winter questioned.  
Both. Neither. Elsa shut her eyes and gave a quick little nod.  
"You've got to care," he said. "That's the only way - I mean, that's the only way you can really enjoy life."  
He was asking her to start feeling again. Elsa squeezed her eyes tighter and shook her head. No, she couldn't. She wouldn't. "All I want is to endure," she whispered.   
"But don't you want to be happy?" There was a raw aching in his voice, sharp and ragged. It made Elsa want to cry.  
No, she told herself sternly. Don't feel. Don't feel, don't let him know.  
Feel nothing.  
Stay safe.  
"Not if it means I'll be hurt," Elsa rasped, pushing against the hard part in her throat to be heard.  
Winter made a noise, then - a sort of growl mixed with a desolate moan, and Elsa looked up to see his hand fisted in his hair. "If he did this to you," he ground out, "if the reason you're like this is because of Pitch Black, then I'm... I promise you, I will make him regret it, Elsa."  
Pitch Black. The name echoed in her head, the words filling her with darkness, with fear. It settled inside her, and Elsa could feel herself starting to remember -  
No. No no no - Elsa clapped her hands on the sides of her head and pushed the memories away. No, I don't want to know. I don't want to remember, I don't want to feel -  
"Elsa." Jack was there, standing right in front of her, his staff leaning against the inside of one shoulder. He took her hands in his and gently pulled them away. His eyes were kinder, softer - but there was still pain lurking in their depths. "Elsa... all I want..." His voice broke and he gave her a wincing smile. "I just want you to be happy."  
Happiness required caring, and caring meant that she had to feel. Elsa looked down at their hands and watched as a curling tendril of frost bloomed on her skin where he was holding her. "It doesn't matter," she said quietly.  
"Yes, it does." He cradled her hands tenderly, as if he was afraid he might break her. "Everyone needs happiness, Elsa. Even someone as sad and beautiful as you."  
The words resonated inside her, warm and comforting. Elsa shook her head against the sensation, and in denial of Winter's words.  
"Do I make you happy?" he asked. His voice was low and a little breathy, but Elsa could hear the hope that he was trying so hard to hide.  
"I don't know," she began, then realized she was right: she had no idea what she was feeling.  
She was... she felt...  
" 'Cause if I don't make you happy," Winter said, "then I won't come back."  
Elsa said nothing. She told herself that she knew this was coming.  
"What do you feel, Elsa?" he asked.  
Nothing. I feel nothing. "I don't know.  
"You've got to know."  
Conceal everything. Don't feel. Elsa pulled her hands away and stepped back. "I told you, I don't know. I - I don't know anything. Why do you ask? Why do you... why do you always ask? Why are you always asking?"  
Winter didn't answer. Elsa finally looked up at him, but his head was turned to the window, where she could see the long undulating ribbons of the aurora shifting in the sky. "Why?" she repeated, but he didn't turn. "Why do you always ask? Why can't you just... Winter."  
Winter closed his eyes, and she saw him swallow. "Because," he said, and his voice was little more than a whisper. "I have to know if I have a chance."  
"A chance?" she repeated.  
He looked at her then, and his face was full of sorrow and heartbreak. Something inside Elsa recoiled at the sight. "Just tell me," he begged.  
Elsa backed away. Say nothing, show nothing. You are stone, you are ice. "Don't ask," she said. "Don't ask me, I can't... I won't..."  
Winter shook his head, advancing slowly. "I have to," he said. "I have - I have to know. Elsa, tell me. Please. I just want... I just wish I could help you." He reached out to her, his hand just grazing her cheek. "Just let me..."  
The emotions rose, overpowering her, breaking her control. Elsa slapped his hand away and curled her arms around herself protectively. Conceal, stay safe. Don't let him know -  
"No!" she screamed. "You can't help me - no one can! I can't give you anything. I won't feel! I won't!" She took a trembling breath and turned away, pressing her head down against her chest. "Just... Just leave me alone. Just go away, Winter. Please."  
All was silent, but Elsa didn't dare look up. For a long while, it seemed, she stood there, waiting. Listening. When Winter finally spoke, his voice was carefully emotionless. "Okay," he said. "Okay, if that's what you want. I'll go."  
Elsa waited for his goodbye. He never left without telling her goodbye. But he didn't say anything and when she looked up, the room was empty.  
He was gone.  
Her heart was beating frantically in her chest. Elsa took a deep breath, but it didn't calm her. If anything, her heart was racing more erratically than before. Why? Elsa wondered, pressing a hand over her breast. Winter was gone, and his piercing questions with him. She should be relieved, or relaxed. Instead her body was reacting somehow, but to what?  
It wasn't just her body, though. Her thoughts felt like a million birds trapped in a cage, flitting to and fro, all trying to escape. But she couldn't think too probingly about anything, for fear she would stumble upon what she had buried deep within her mind.  
She refused to let herself discover it.  
Elsa began to pace, hoping that movement would help distract her. Her breath was coming in little staggered gasps and her body was shaking, as if her blood was thrumming in her veins. Why was she acting like this? Think of that, instead, Elsa told herself. She held out her hands, watching as they shivered before her eyes. What is wrong with me? she wondered. Am I angry? Nervous? Excited?  
No -   
I'm scared. Elsa felt her heart skip a little in response, and she curled her hands into loose fists. But how could that be? I've never been afraid of Winter before...  
No, not afraid of him - afraid for him, Elsa realized. Afraid for me.  
I'm worried he won't come back.  
"Of course he will," Elsa said aloud, but she could hear the tremor in her voice. She wasn't sure at all that he would return.  
Yet she had expected this, hadn't she? She had been so sure - so why did it bother her now?  
I want him to come back.  
"Don't feel," she whispered, but the damage was already done. Elsa shut her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. She wanted him to return. She wished he could come back, with that carefree smile and mischievous look in his eyes -  
"Come back," Elsa whispered.  
She knew he wouldn't.  
She had sent him away.  
The pain was terrible: wrenching and inescapable. It was everything Elsa had tried to avoid - and now it was too late. She could feel now - more than she had in many years.  
It was too much.  
She needed Winter. She needed his gentle touch, his kind words, the sense of safety that he seemed to bring whenever he visited...  
So Elsa broke the vow she had made to herself: she let herself remember him.  
She pictured him the first day he appeared to her, his bright smile and eager demeanor a far cry from the Winter she knew now. She recalled the events they participated in together - the 'snow sports,' as Winter called them - and the many, many tales he had told her as they stood at the window looking at the night sky. She remembered the way he laughed at his own jokes, the way he used to lean in close when he talked, as if he was confessing a secret, and how his eyes lingered on her when he thought she wasn't looking.  
She remembered the sound of his voice.  
He seemed to care so much for her. He always asked how she was, and what she was thinking about - and he said he wanted her to be happy.  
No one ever said that to me before, she thought, and yet Winter did. He was a stranger, but he cared.  
What were his exact words? Elsa closed her eyes to remember more clearly. "Everyone needs happiness, Elsa," she quoted carefully. "Even someone as sad and beautiful as you."  
Sad and beautiful...  
The words burned in her mind, bright as a glittering flake of freshly-fallen snow. The grey mist in her mind evaporated in the light's wake, dissolving the barriers she had kept closed and intact for so long. The kindness of his voice shone upon the darkest corners and furthest reaches, unearthing everything she had once shut away. Suddenly -  
Elsa remembered.  
The memories rushed upon her like a tidal wave, like a monster of shadow, threatening to conquer her, body and soul - and then she caught sight of one memory, like a streak of beauty in the endless night of her heinous life -  
It was a peaceful morning. The sun was just rising over the sea, its timid rays turning the thin layer of ice and snow into something iridescent, something rare. The entire city glowed with it, reflecting back into her eyes -  
And there was a boy. He had ruffled hair and a brown cloak that was fringed with delicate swirls of frost, but his expression was hesitant and earnest. He had blinked in confusion - or maybe it was sadness? - at her words, and as he looked up at her, she realized how pale he really was. Pale like her.  
He had leaned on his staff and tilted his head to one side, his eyes staring into hers. He must have found the truth there, because the muscles around his eyes tightened. "Everyone needs happiness," he had told her, "even someone as sad and beautiful as you."  
He had said that. Winter had said that.  
He had met her before, and he said those exact same words - even back then.  
She had hoped Winter would come. A part of her had believed that he felt the same connection she had, and that he might show up one day, riding the wind -   
And he had; Winter had finally come, all these years later.  
But that wasn't his real name.  
Elsa remembered the easy way he had talked to her - his light shrug, his apologetic grin - and his words when he introduced himself on the bridge.  
"Jack," she said softly. She turned to look out the window, but the aurora was gone - erased, as if it had never been.  
He had come, but she sent him away.  
"Jack Frost," Elsa whispered. "Please..."  
Come back.


	5. A Heart of Stone

"We," Nicholas St. North said soberly, "have a problem."  
All five Guardians were gathered in Santa's personal workroom. The big guy himself was leaning against the huge wooden table, the Sandman at his side. Toothiana was hovering by the rafters, her wings a blur of color above her back. Bunny was positioned by the supply shelf off to the side, idly fingering one of his boomerangs. Jack stood in the back of the room by the big windows where he could easily see everyone. He was close enough to be part of the conversation, but far enough away that he didn't have to share eye contact with anyone, which was exactly what he wanted right then.  
"Yeah," Tooth said, her voice pitched high with concern. "We do have a problem."  
North turned to face her, his face transformed in complete surprise. "You know? But how do you know about problem? I only just realize - "  
The Tooth Fairy sent him an apologetic smile. "Oh, no no no. Actually I meant - I mean, I shouldn't have mentioned it, but I couldn't help but notice... Jack, are you feeling okay?"  
Jack looked up to find everyone staring at him. "I'm fine," he said shortly.  
"Now that 'cha mention it, Tooth, he does look a bit different." Bunny's whiskers lifted in a lopsided grin. "Ya look terrible, mate."  
Jack glared. "I said I'm fine."  
"I'm sorry," Tooth said, and her face fell. "I was just worried - "  
"Well don't," he said sharply. He rounded on North. "I thought there was a real problem here. That's why you called everyone, right? So tell us what it is."  
Toothiana shared a glance with Bunny. St. North's eyes darted back and forth from Jack to Tooth and Bunny, then he clapped his hands together. "Ah! Yes! It is very important. I have news."  
"Yeah, well, at least you didn't drag me away two days from Easter this time," Bunny muttered.  
"News," North said dramatically, "about Pitch Black."  
Toothiana gasped. Jack crossed his arms, frowning at no one in particular. I just talked to him, it feels like, he thought - but when he stopped to consider, he couldn't precisely say how long ago it had been. A few months, maybe? He watched the Sandman turn to give North a dubious look, an enormous question mark appearing above his head. Yeah, Jack thought, what are you up to now, Pitch Black?  
"How can he be active already?" Bunny protested in exasperation. "I mean, it ain't been that long since we put 'em away last time."  
"Yes, but now is different." North leaned forward. "The Bogeyman has found an ally."  
Jack's eyes narrowed. Tooth and Bunny began talking at once and the Sandman's mouth fell open. North raised his hands for silence. "I know," he said, "I know - I ask myself same thing: why would somebody join Pitch? And who? I do not know. But! I can describe."  
The others waited expectantly as North cleared his throat. "It is girl," he announced, "with white hair and blue dress. I am bad at ages, so I guess... late teenager? Early adult? In any case - "  
"Whoa, okay. Stop. Stop." Jack shook his head. "You've got it all wrong. She's not with Pitch anymore."  
"You know the girl?" North asked in amazement.  
"Yeah, and she's not with the Bogeyman. She used to be, but that was a long time ago."  
"But this girl - she has winter powers like you - "  
"Sounds like a cousin or somethin'," Bunny pitched in, swinging around to look at Jack.  
"Yeah, she does control ice and snow," Jack said in a hard voice, trying his best to ignore the Easter Bunny's comment. "But that doesn't mean she's evil. Like I said, she left Pitch a long time ago."  
The others just looked at him - even the Sandman, whose question mark was still hovering above his head. Jack hated their stares. It reminded him of his first days with them, when all he seemed to do was make mistakes or do stupid things.  
But Elsa - no, she didn't deserve to be turned into a villain like this. "And her name," Jack added, indignance clear in his voice, "is Elsa."  
Bunny, Toothiana, Sandman, and St. North all looked at each other. "You seem to know a lot about her, Jack," Tooth said slowly. "When did you meet her?"  
"Right after I woke up - before I met any of you."  
She looked at North.  
"Look, you guys have nothing to worry about. Elsa isn't working with Pitch, so I don't even know why you're suspicious of her... why are you, anyway?" He snatched his staff from where it was leaning against the window and thumped it against the ground. "Where did you get your information, North? Who gave it to you - Pitch? It certainly wasn't Elsa."  
Toothiana twisted her hands together. "Do you know that for sure, Jack?"  
"Yeah." His voice was low and fierce. He glanced pointedly at St. North, who chuckled.  
"No," he said in that jovial tone of his, "no one told me. It just came to me." He tapped his forehead. "I remember."  
"You remembered?" Bunny repeated doubtfully.  
"Yes! I was thinking about that day when I fought Pitch Black and he attacked with ice. Bunny, you remember? Tooth? Sandy?"  
"Hang on, but you said he distracted you," Bunny said. "You said he used shadows to dump snow and ice on you - "  
"Yes, then Yetis dug me out. But you see? I remember what happened! It was girl - Elsa."  
Jack looked out the windows. They were all misted over, but through it Jack could see the fuzzy shapes of the snow-covered mountains. It reminded him of the bleak landscape outside Elsa's tower. "And you remembered," he said quietly. "Just like that."  
"Yes, like that!" St. North said, beaming.  
If only remembering was as easy as North made it sound. Jack let out his breath in a long sigh.  
Bunny twirled the boomerang in his paw and pointed it at North. "So lemme get this straight: we're not in danger from Jack's cousin?" he asked.  
Jack groaned. "She's not my cousin. And she's known as the Snow Queen, if you've heard of her," Jack added, though he hated the title.  
Bunny looked at Toothiana and the Sandman, who shook their heads. "Nah," he said, "can't say that I have." He began to scratch the back of his ear with a hind leg.  
The words themselves didn't make Jack angry - it was the careless way Bunny said it, like he didn't really even care who Elsa was. And now he was scratching at ticks, or whatever it was that rabbits got. It pissed Jack off. "Elsa is kind," he said in a level, acidic voice. "She is polite, thoughtful, and loving. She is beautiful in every way possible, but I don't expect you to realize that because you wouldn't notice even if she stood right in front of you!"  
Jack fully expected that his insult would set Bunny off - which was fine, because he wanted to fight someone. But when Bunny slowly lowered his leg, Jack was astonished to see amusement growing on his face. "Frost," Bunny said, "are you... are you crackin' onto her?"  
"Uh... what?"  
"You are." He grinned at Toothiana and North, who clearly knew what he was talking about from the answering smiles on their faces. "Lookit that," he said, just managing to hold back a laugh. "Our own little larrikin is fallin' in love."  
Jack barely prevented himself from spitting a word that would have made Toothiana blanch. "Forget it," he muttered, pushing past the Sandman to the door. He should have known they were going to make fun of him. They always took the opportunity to tease him, always, even if it wasn't funny to begin with.  
At least he'd managed to derail the possibility that Elsa was still evil. That was what mattered.  
"Jack." A heavy hand grasped his shoulder as North's shadow fell across the door. "Are you alright?"  
He shrugged off the arm. "I'm fine, Santa."  
"Hm. No, I do not think so." He grabbed Jack's arm again and pushed open the door. Despite Jack's protests, North pulled Jack down the hall to another smaller door, which turned out to be a cupboard filled with paint.  
"Wow," Jack said sarcastically as he looked around at the shelves and shelves of paint cans. "And I always wondered by the Yetis never ran out of red or blue."  
"Now," North said, shutting the door behind him. "Tell me what is wrong."  
"Yeah, no thanks. I think I'm good."  
North crossed his arms, smiling smugly. "We will not leave until you do."  
Jack glared, but he could tell that North was serious. "So you're really gonna do this to me?" he asked flatly.  
North nodded vigorously. "Of course! So, is it because of your girl? Elsa?"  
Jack sighed. He didn't even bother to correct St. North. "...yeah. I saw her again, after all this time, but she doesn't remember me. Not at all."  
"Memory is strange thing - sometimes, it returns when least expected." He chuckled and tapped his head. "I should know."  
"I know, but... I thought... I mean, we had something," he argued. "How could she forget about that? I kept hoping her memory would return; I visited her for months, but it's like she doesn't even want to remember!" Jack shook his head. "I don't know what to do. She doesn't even... " He breathed out slowly. "She doesn't even like me anymore."  
"Impossible!" North declared.  
"No, it is. She said... she said I don't mean anything to her. I don't know what else I can do."  
"Jack." This time, when North put his hand on Jack's shoulder, he didn't shrug it off. "Being a Guardian is not just to protect children, but to help each other. To help our friends. Why do you think we all went to Tooth Palace when it was under attack?"  
"Because Pitch was there," Jack said, though he knew that wasn't all North was getting at.  
"Yes, and she is my family. All the Guardians are my family." The corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Even you."  
Jack blinked up into North's face. The admission touched him, and for a moment he felt lost for words.  
"So. Ask yourself: what is Elsa to you?"  
Jack looked away. What was Elsa to him? A friend? Family? Or was she something else?  
There's no word that describes her, Jack thought, glancing back at North. She's just... to me, she's...  
"Everything," he said quietly.  
North nodded slowly. There was something like pride in his eyes, though why, exactly, Jack didn't know. "Then what will you do? Leave her?"  
"No!" Jack said quickly - then stopped as he realized that was precisely what he had done. Sure, he had followed the Lights and answered North's summons, but he had given Elsa up.  
She is everything to me, Jack thought - he knew it when he first met her, and he knew it now. I can't - I don't want to live without her.  
"I'll go back," Jack said. "I'll always go back to her."  
"Sounds to me," North said, giving him a knowing look, "that you might love her."  
Jack just looked at him. Did he? There were too many emotions - pain, longing, and anxiety - that he didn't know how to even begin to answer.  
Perhaps North saw a glimpse of Jack's inner turmoil on his face, because he smiled. His hand tightened on Jack's shoulder. "Then go to her."

Elsa was gone when Jack returned.  
He searched every inch of the tower, from the spiral staircase down below to the wide room at the top - but she was nowhere to be found.  
She was gone.  
"No," Jack sighed. He stared at the walls and the floor, his frost and her snowflakes still vibrant, as if they had been made only yesterday. Jack sank to his knees, pressing one hand against a snowflake. Elsa must have decided to go somewhere on her own. That was the only explanation that made sense; she didn't remember Pitch, and no one else knew she was here...  
So why did she leave?  
She must have had a reason. Jack looked out the window. Maybe she went somewhere else in Antarctica? But why would she do that when she'd already made this tower?  
To get away from me? He winced. No no, I told her I wasn't coming back.  
Where would she go?  
If she remembered -   
"No," Jack said sternly, but the idea actually made sense: if Elsa had regained her memories, she might try to find him.  
"Then she could be anywhere," he gasped.  
Or maybe she went back to the places she remembered, like her home. Or to Pitch. Jack shuddered. No, she wouldn't do that, she couldn't...  
Or she could have gone to the bridge.  
"The bridge," Jack whispered. Of course - that was where they'd met. If by chance Elsa had found her memories, and if she wanted him to find her, then - then -  
Then that's where she would be.  
Jack knew it was a stretch, and a big one at that, but he had to know. He hoped he was right. If not -   
Well, then he guessed that things couldn't get any worse.

Elsa remembered that the city had once been very quiet - just a small village with mountains at its' back and the sea to its' front. She remembered the small clustered houses and the meandering cobbled streets that wove between them. She remembered odd little details: a tailor's sign swinging gently in the breeze; a seabird landing gracefully on the eves of a rooftop; the baker as he unlocked his door, preparing for another day. It had all been so serene, so soothing in the same comforting and prosaic way that Arendelle had been.  
The city did not look like that now.  
The mountains and the sea were unchanged, but that was all; the crowded houses had been cleared away for high-rise apartment buildings, and the cobbled roads replaced by a gridwork of straight, chalk-grey streets. The roar of accelerating cars and blaring horns of traffic easily carried up to where Elsa stood on top of the nearest tower of the steel suspension bridge. Even this, she thought, looking down at the slim highway below her, has changed so much.  
She had stood there for days, perched high above the city as the wind whipped her hair and dragged at her long train, and watched. That was all - she had just watched. And even after her long hours as a silent observer, Elsa still could not reconcile the sight below her.  
She did not know how many years she had existed without her memory, seemingly out of reach of time's counting, but she suspected it was longer than she guessed.  
Elsa did not like the changes to the city - they were too strange, too impersonal to her. She missed the nearness of the old town, the way it had been so familiar, so tangible, so real. This... this city was like a dream. The whole world was a dream of glass and steel.  
And Arendelle was probably like this, too.  
Elsa couldn't prevent the shudder that forced her eyes away. "I'm a stranger now," she whispered, glancing at the sunset that was slowly turning the sky to bright gold. At least with the night came quiet and the city's sparkling lights - that she did like.  
There was a clatter behind her on the tower, and Elsa turned to see Jack Frost climbing to his feet. His face was a picture of white shock. "Elsa, what are you doing up here?" he shouted, the wind snatching away his voice almost as fast as he could speak.  
Elsa looked up at him. She opened her mouth to respond, but seeing Jack there with that concern on his face - concern for her - stole away all the careful words she had planned to say. Her cheeks burned and she turned away.  
"Elsa." Jack's hand curled around her elbow. She cringed, but he didn't seem to notice. "Elsa, come down with me. We can go to the bottom of the bridge - "  
"No." Her voice cracked as she tried to raise it above the buffeting wind. "Not there."  
"How about the mountains? We could... we could sit in the snow..."  
Elsa looked back at Jack. His face was flushed with embarrassment, but he didn't drop his eyes. It reminded Elsa of the day they met. He hasn't changed at all, she thought.  
Except that he had. She remembered the many days when he had come to her tower on the premise of some excuse or other - to go sledding, or to make snow angels - but also to talk to her. No, just to be with her. Elsa had seen that, even then, and it had warmed her despite her attempts not to feel.  
And Jack Frost was here again, talking to her. He hadn't turned his back on her despite everything she said, and he hadn't given her up for lost. He knew that snow calmed her, that it was her comfort, her element - it was his, too, after all, so he understood -  
After everything, he was still trying to cheer her up.  
"I..." Elsa swallowed. Her eyes stung and she blinked rapidly, forcing the unshed tears away. "I do," she said quietly. "I want to sit in the snow... with you."  
It was a wonder that Jack heard her at all, but he did. The stress lines around his eyes vanished and a look of - relief? Happiness? Elsa didn't know - spread across his face, making him look younger, like the bright-eyed young man she had met on this same bridge centuries ago.  
Jack held out his staff and Elsa gripped it with both hands. Jack took a step closer, his free hand grazing her shoulder, and Elsa nodded that she was ready.  
She expected them to zip away with all the force of a gale, or at least feel a sudden and unpleasant lurch as they left the ground; from the way Elsa had seen Jack hurl himself through her window, she was anticipating a nasty bout of nausea. So Elsa was relieved when they only lifted into the air and, when she sent Jack a reassured look, he gave her a tentative smile in return.  
Elsa didn't watch the ground flying by beneath them - that would have made her ill for certain - but it didn't take long until she felt her heels sink into the soft powder of freshly-fallen snow. She let out the breath she didn't know she was holding and opened her eyes.  
Jack was looking at her with a bemused look on his face. "You'll get used to it," he said.  
Elsa nodded, but she wondered if he really would take her on more flights with him - especially after he heard what she had to say.  
She made two chairs side-by-side out of ice almost without thinking about it, and Jack whistled appreciatively as he sat down. "You're really a natural at this, aren't you?"  
"It's always come easy to me," she said, elegantly arranging her dress as she sat. "Sometimes - If I'm lucky - I've been able to control it."  
"Yeah, I'll say." He ran his pale fingers over the crystal-smoothness of the armrests. "You'll have to teach me a thing or two, sometime."  
"Of course. Anything - whatever you want." Her voice sounded thin and brittle, even to her own ears.  
Jack must have heard it too - or else he was looking at her because he expected her to tell him why she had forgotten him. He must be wondering why she had hidden herself away, why she had so many secrets, why she had done all this -   
His voice was hesitant. "Elsa - "  
"I'm sorry. Jack, I - " She clenched her hands into the folds of her dress. She knew she had to tell him the truth - she had to, he deserved that much - but now that he was here, sitting beside her, the words felt like lead in her mouth.  
When Elsa first regained her recollection of Jack, part of her mind had still been closed off. She had wanted to see him so much, so she traveled to the bridge, hoping he would find her there. But as time went on and Jack did not appear, Elsa began to wonder what other pieces of her past were hidden from her. She dug through her memories like a starved woman, opening each one until there was nothing left and she knew everything.  
She knew what sort of person she was. Jack Frost, with all his goodness and optimism, did not deserve to be attached to a wretch like her.  
"It's - It's my fault," she managed to gasp out, which was true enough.  
"Whoa whoa, it's okay." His fingers brushed hers, feather-soft. It was almost as if he was afraid she would break if he touched her. "Whatever happened, I'm sure it wasn't your fault."  
Elsa turned her head away. "Yes it was."  
"I don't believe that." He touched her hand again and this time she caught it, holding his fingers in a tight grip. Jack hesitated for a moment, then reached forward to wrap his other hand around hers. His touch was gentle, like he was holding a panicked bird. "Start at the beginning," he suggested quietly.  
"The beginning?" With Arendelle and her coronation and - and Anna? Elsa squeezed his hand. "I - I can't - "  
"Did Pitch... did he do anything to you? Did he hurt you?"  
Oh. That beginning. "He never hurt me," she said, knowing as she spoke that it was a complete lie; Pitch had never harmed her physically, but he knew a thousand other ways to cause pain, each more terrible than the last. "I just couldn't... be with him anymore. I had lost hope."  
"He told you I wasn't real," Jack said.  
There was anger in his voice and Elsa looked up, startled. "Pitch combined truth with my fears," she said. "He told me what I... I had begun to think... I believed - "  
"It's okay." He shook his head carelessly, but Elsa caught a glimpse of the emotion he was trying to hide. "So you stopped believing in me and everything else. Then what?"  
She stared off into the city. The sky was streaked with pink and purple, and the color reflected off the tiny windows like chips of ice. "My parents taught me a phrase when I was a girl, to help me control my powers: conceal, don't feel. Don't let them know. When my hope was gone and my powers were out of control, and I felt so guilty about everything and I didn't know what was true anymore, and I felt like I was about to be torn apart by all my fear and sadness - "  
She broke off to catch her breath. Jack's hands curved a little more tightly around hers.  
"I decided that my parents were right," she said softly. "I didn't want to remember anymore. If I did, then I wouldn't feel. I wouldn't suffer anymore."  
"So you got rid of them," Jack finished quietly.  
Elsa shut her eyes. She nodded once.  
"How?"  
"I went to see an old friend." The wind blew against her neck, stirring her hair. It was edged with the iciness of approaching night - just as it had been back then, too. "She... she helped me."  
There was no moon that evening, but the wind was chill; it whipped between the craggy rocks that jutted into the sky, unforgiving and grim. The small valley between the high fells was bleaker than that evening centuries ago when Elsa's father had come, desperate for aid. When Elsa made the summons, only one came: an old troll woman covered in moss.  
She bowed to Elsa with all the dignity of her ancestors before her. "Queen Elsa," she greeted reverently. The iridescent slime on the mushrooms along her back glowed an eerie green in the darkness. "It has been many years since you returned."  
"I'm not a queen anymore," Elsa told her, but the troll only shook her head.   
"To me, your highness, you will always be my queen. What do you ask of me?"  
Elsa straightened her shoulders. "To have my memory closed forever."  
The troll blinked, her weathered face breaking into a horrified expression. "Close your memory? But - But Queen Elsa, that is - "  
"Your elder did it once to my sister, did he not?"  
"Grand Pabbie was the last who could accomplish such a feat," the troll admitted, "but that was not what he did to Princess Anna; he merely suppressed the memories deep within her mind."  
"Then that is what I want to do as well," Elsa said firmly. She had tried to live a solitary life after leaving Pitch, but the long hours alone nearly drove her mad. Her thoughts tormented her, reminding her of what she had done. Sometimes she heard Pitch's voice, sometimes Anna's. She tried to escape them, but she didn't know how and the taunting voices were always with her, and her power was constantly screaming in her veins, longing to be freed -  
She couldn't take it anymore.   
Elsa couldn't endure the terrible sorrow and anger. She didn't want the memories of her heartbreak or her guilt anymore - she didn't want to remember what she had done.  
So she decided to just get rid of them once and for all.  
"Queen Elsa," the troll said slowly, "have you... do you really think - "  
"You won't talk me out of it, my mind is made up." She looked steadily at the troll. "Will you do it?  
The troll sighed. She looked up into Elsa's face, and what she saw - well, if it was only an echo of the misery Elsa felt was suffocating her, then it was enough to convince the old troll. She nodded reluctantly. "I will," she answered quietly, "but I must ask a favor from you in return."  
"Anything."  
The troll held up a cautionary finger. "Know, Queen Elsa, that I do not have the skill to leave the memories of joy in your head, as Grand Pabbie could for Princess Anna. When I seal your memories, everything will be gone - your childhood, your parents, Anna - "  
"I know!" Elsa broke in, desperation seeping into her voice. She had thought of that already, and agonized over loosing the few precious moments she treasured the most -  
But she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't live with the knowledge that Anna's death had been her fault, that she had nearly killed Santa Claus, that she had become the monster that Pitch Black had designed her to be, that she had become surely irredeemable for all she had done...  
There was only one way that she could rid herself of the pain.  
"I know," Elsa said again, "but I just want... I just need to start over. I need a clean slate, and if that means I have to forget everything to do it, then I will."  
The troll shook her head, the crystals around her neck chiming as they clashed together. "Then you give me no choice. But promise me, Queen Elsa, that you will grant my wish."  
"I promise."  
She sighed again. "Very well. Kneel here, your highness."  
Elsa hesitated. "But I haven't given you what you - "  
"I know," the troll said with a sad smile, "but you will."  
The troll said nothing more, despite Elsa's questions. Knowing that she would get no straight answer, Elsa pushed her concerns away and nodded once. She knelt down before the troll. She shut her eyes as the troll's cold stone hand pressed against her forehead, and Elsa wondered belatedly if she should be nervous, or if it would hurt...  
...and then she was standing. There was a sharp wind whistling through the rocky hills around her, and though it blew against her, stirring the hair in her eyes, she didn't seem to be cold.  
"Queen Elsa."  
She turned and saw an oddly-shaped stone blinking up at her. Elsa blinked in return.  
"By your request, I have suppressed your memories, but not forever - you have the ability to tap into them and unlock what you have willingly sealed," the stone said. "A word of warning if you do: once regained, the memories will never be forgotten again. It was with great anguish that you asked me to do this, and terrible sadness that I complied. If you should seek your memories, do not forget this fact."  
Elsa nodded soberly.  
"Now I ask you for a favor of my own," the stone - troll, Elsa remembered - said softly. "Your powers over ice and snow should be easily suited to the task."  
Snow, Elsa thought. She opened her hand and a snowflake bloomed to life, beautiful and delicate and hers. The newly-awakened memory whispered that she could do so much more - but there was pain buried in that knowledge, and Elsa, shocked by the magnitude of such sorrow, shied away from the discovery.  
"Yes," Elsa said. She let the snowflake fall to the ground and looked at the troll. "What can I do?"  
It was silent for a few moments. "I am the last of my kind in these lands. People no longer believe in the magic of the earth and sky, and they have no respect for the wisdom of the trees. All the others lost the power of speech and the will to live on in such a world years ago, but I... I was once the youngest, but now I am the only one left. And I am tired of being alone."  
Elsa didn't answer. This - what the troll wanted from her - was murder. It was a kindness, but it was murder all the same.  
"You agreed to grant my wish," the troll said, looking slowly up at her.  
Yes, she did - Elsa remembered that, but she still didn't want to be the one... "I don't think I can - " she began.  
"Please," the troll interjected. "Queen Elsa, this... it's all I want."  
Elsa sighed. She looked down at her long slim fingers, knowing what she must do but hating the thought of it -   
"Elsa?"  
She came back to herself with a start. She was hunched over in her chair, her forehead pressed into the heels of her palms. Her body was trembling with the effort to keep herself upright.  
A hand pressed gently against her shoulder blades. "Elsa," Jack murmured. "It's okay. If it's too much - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed..."  
Elsa sniffed and Jack sighed, lapsing into silence. You didn't push, Elsa wanted to say. You aren't asking too much. It's because of me, I'm the one who should be - But the words wouldn't come.   
Her breath shook as she exhaled. Jack must have heard because his hand began to move in slow circles across her upper back. Elsa closed her eyes and focused on his touch, letting it take her grief away for just a moment...  
"Jack." Elsa raised her head. The city lights were all alight, sparkling like little stars against a violet sky. She gazed at them, knowing it would be easier to speak to Jack if she wasn't looking at him. "There were things in my past... things that I did... " Her throat closed on her words and she swallowed. "I just wanted to forget. I didn't want to remember... Jack, I'm not... what I've done - "  
"It's okay," he said. "You don't have to tell me."  
He didn't understand. "But you think you know me, and you don't even know what I've done - what I became - " She twisted around to look at him, and he was looking back at her with such kindness that for a few seconds she stopped breathing. "I... hurt you. Even without my memories, I caused you pain - "  
Elsa caught herself. It wasn't what she had meant to say - not out loud - but it was true. I did nothing but hurt him, Elsa thought, turning away. That's all I've ever done.  
"Hey." Jack's hand stilled on her back. He leaned around to look into her eyes. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I mean, you're here and you're talking to me again, so things are already a lot better than they were before." He chuckled a little.  
Elsa fought against the emotion that rose inside her, threatening to choke her. Jack was lying, of course - she could see that in the anxiety in his face and his half-hearted smile. He was pretending for her sake, to make her feel better.  
...but she did appreciate his effort.  
Elsa was used to pretending a calm assurance she did not feel, and for Jack she pretended again. She reached for his hand and, when he twined his fingers with hers, she gave him a smile. The tension in his eyes relaxed and he nodded.  
"You're here," he said, and even his voice sounded lighter. "That's what matters."  
"That's what matters," Elsa repeated, though she knew it wasn't true.  
Not in the slightest.


	6. Passage of Time

They sat together for a long while.  
The sun quickly sank beyond the horizon. In the cloudy sky above, a few brave stars poked through, giving a glimpse to the black velvet firmament beyond. Jack pointed it out to Elsa and they watched in silence.  
There were a few times when Elsa sucked in her breath or opened her mouth, as if she was about to speak, only to withdraw into herself a few moments later. Jack didn't mind - at least, that's what he told himself. Three hundred years of waiting for an answer from the Man in the Moon had made him pretty patient, he thought. So he could wait.  
Whenever Elsa was ready, if she felt comfortable, then he'd be there to listen.  
Still, it made him sad to see Elsa so discouraged. There was darkness behind her eyes, and her smiles were only passing, fragile things. Jack had tried everything that he thought would make her happy, and none of them had worked. Most of his failure was probably due to the fact that he had no idea what was making Elsa so despondent, but he tried not to think about that.  
If only she knew how happy he had been to see that she remembered him again. He'd told her, and it was clear she didn't take him at his word. But he'd believed in her for so long and hoped that she would recover, that - well, it was sort of like a miracle. He figured that if Elsa could remember him again, then she would heal. It might be hard, but he'd be there for her. He'd stay by her. Someday he hoped that she could be the person she once was, the one he remembered so vividly. He believed that she would.  
Believe, Jack realized. Maybe that's what she needs to help her bounce back. She just needs someone to believe in her - not just me, but the other Guardians, too. She needs to know we care about her.  
And she needs someone to know she's real... maybe even someone whose belief was strong enough to save the world.  
"Elsa," Jack said, turning to look at her. He'd caught her with her mouth open again, about to speak, and she faltered when she heard him say her name.  
"Yes?"  
"Elsa, I think... I think it's time you met one of my friends."  
Her eyes widened. She pulled back a little. "You don't mean - the Guardians?"  
Jack shook his head. It made sense now why she had never wanted Jack to talk about them; North had mentioned that he was bested by Elsa in a battle against Pitch. She probably still felt guilty about that. "Nope, not them. Someone else - someone younger."  
"Younger?" she repeated, her brows knitting together. "Younger than you?"  
He laughed. "Yep, a whole lot younger."  
"But... who... ?"  
Jack grinned. "Jamie."

"Do you usually like to catch him unawares?" Elsa asked.  
"Nah. Normally I just pop out in front of his friends, but today we'll take it nice and slow."  
She smiled a little, knowing he was doing so for her benefit. "Thank you, but do you really think he won't mind if we're... ah, waiting in his room?" She glanced around the messy bedroom, trying hard not to stare at the - were they dirty or clean? - trousers that had been cast aside in a heap by the window.  
Jack glanced around too, but there was a look of pride on his face. "He first saw me here, after all. I don't think he'd mind at all. In fact - " He leapt onto the bed and sprawled out, grinning. " - go ahead and make yourself comfortable. He won't care."  
The self-satisfied expression on Jack's face teased a surprised giggle out of Elsa. "Well, I suppose I could sit..." She looked around for a seat, but the only chair was piled high with a stack of books. With no other choice but the bed, Elsa slowly sat down as close to the edge as possible.  
Jack laughed at her obvious uneasiness. "The bed won't bite, you know. Anyway, I know Jamie'll be here any minute - "  
As if on cue the door opened, and Elsa shot nervously to her feet. A boy trudged in - a teenager, from what Elsa could tell, or maybe a little younger - and shrugged off a backpack. He groaned and tossed it unceremoniously on the bed - nearly hitting Jack, who made a squawk of outrage. "Hey now," he said, "if you wanted me to move, you could have just said so."  
The boy whipped around. "Jack?"  
"Yeah, hey." He answered Jamie's grin with one of his own. "How've you been?"  
"Good! Uh, great!" He gestured to the backpack. "Sorry about that. I'm in junior high now, so the homework load is heavier than ever - literally. Other than that, though, I'm good."  
Jack sat up. He pointed at Jamie and said teasingly, "so is that the way they wear their hair in junior high?"  
He combed his long hair out of his eyes, flashing a sheepish smile. "Yeah, well... most guys do. And, uh... "  
"Yeah?"  
"And, you know, the girls like it." He ducked his head, blushing, and a wicked grin spread across Jack's face.  
"It's Cupcake, isn't it?"  
"No, it's not Cupcake!"  
Elsa smiled a little, watching them. Jack hadn't exaggerated when he called Jamie a friend. They seemed so close that it was almost like they were brothers, the way they joked and laughed with each other.  
She turned to look out the window. It was comforting, in a way, to hear them talk; she hadn't had such a conversation with someone since... well, maybe not even since she was a child. It was nice to be reminded that there were some relationships out there that weren't laced with fear or doubt, or even shame. The world was still normal, and it was good to remember that.  
But Elsa envied the ease of Jack's friendship with the human boy. Jack opened up so easily, and it seemed like he had many friends. He fit here, in this new world. He had adapted and accepted the changes that, Elsa assumed, had come slowly and over time. Here Jack was, talking as if he were another human, too - as if he belonged. Jack was a denizen of both the mortal world and the immortal one, and Elsa wished she could fit in as seamlessly.  
And I, Elsa wondered, where do I belong?  
It wasn't here, in Jamie's room. The boy couldn't even see her and yet she was here, with Jack, like his shadow -  
Yes, that's what she was: a shadow. Just a shade of her former self - her real self, when she was still human.  
I don't belong here, Elsa thought. She knew Jack was going to try and make her believe that she did, but she knew better. I left too much in my past to be... to truly let myself...  
She sighed. Even in her mind, she couldn't find the right words.  
Jack must have heard her sigh because he stopped in the middle of a sentence and looked at her. Jamie glanced over Jack's shoulder, the beginnings of a frown showing on his face.  
"Actually," Jack said, turning back to Jamie, "I came to see you for another reason. Have you heard of the Snow Queen?"  
"You mean that folktale by Hans Christian Anderson?"  
"Uh..." Jack shrugged. "Sure? I haven't heard of the guy, but - "  
"Hang on, I have the book around here somewhere." Jamie rummaged in his chest of drawers, glanced along his shelves, then peeked under his bed before pulling out a thick volume and hefted it in his arms. "Yeah, here we go," he murmured, flipping it open. "There's something about a kidnapped boy and a broken mirror, and a girl who was pure in heart... oh yeah." He tapped the page with a finger. "And apparently if the Queen kisses you three times, you die."  
Elsa blinked in surprise and Jack sputtered, "t-that is not - uh, that's not true. It can't be."  
Jamie raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?"  
"Yeah." He pointed to the book. "The story sounds a little off, but the Snow Queen's definitely real."  
Elsa gasped. "No," she said. "Jack, what are you doing?"  
He turned to give her a reassuring smile, and Jamie once again looked over Jack's shoulder to the room beyond - right at Elsa, who flinched. "Is she here?" Jamie asked.  
Elsa shook her head desperately, but Jack continued, "yeah, she is - but she wouldn't kidnap anyone. She isn't cold-hearted; she's kind and compassionate. She... she's... "  
Jack trailed off, but Elsa knew what he was thinking: she was beautiful and sad - the same phrase Jack had used to describe her that morning on the bridge, and the same words that had shaken her from the listlessness of an absent memory. Elsa was powerless to stop the hard lump from growing in the back of her throat, making it hard to swallow. Perhaps Jack would always see her that way; the description certainly fit her better now than it had then.  
"And anyway," Jack rallied, smiling, "she's my friend."  
Elsa clasped her hands together, trying to banish the anxiety that she could feel growing at the edge of her mind.  
"Where is she?" Jamie asked, looking around.  
"Here." Jack bounded off the bed and came to stand by Elsa's side. His smile faded when he looked at her, and it pained Elsa to see that. "It's alright," he said, holding out his hand. He was wearing that look again, as if he was afraid she might suddenly spring away from him or flee, and Elsa shuddered. I will never hurt you again, Jack, she thought, slowly placing her hand into his. I will do everything to make you stop looking at me with worry in your eyes. If I have to pretend - today, tomorrow, for the rest of our lives - then I will.  
One of us should be happy, at least.  
"Show him," Elsa said gently, giving Jack's hand a squeeze. "I'm ready."  
Jack's smile returned. He turned to Jamie and moved his free hand in a little arc, flipping a snowflake between his fingers and into the air. "Believe," he said as Jamie reached up to catch it.  
The snowflake burst into a cascade of sparkling ice, evaporating before the fragments hit the wood floor. Jamie looked up, right into Elsa's eyes, and his mouth fell open. "Whoa," he breathed. "You're... you're...?"  
"The Snow Queen," Elsa supplied, relaxing a little. She tried not to smile at the way Jamie was gaping at her. "My name is Elsa."  
Jamie nodded. He glanced at Jack and pointed a finger at Elsa, and Jack shrugged in response. "What is it?" Elsa asked, looking between them.  
"Nothing!" Jamie and Jack said in unison. Jamie cleared his throat and stepped forward. "I'm, uh, I'm Jamie."  
"Yes," Elsa said. "I'm pleased to meet you."  
Jamie glanced between Elsa and Jack. "So, how did you and Jack meet?"  
"We were in the same city, and... we started talking." Elsa could hear the warmth in her voice and she glanced at Jack, glad that when he met her eye, his expression held the same affection she felt. "It was... we just sort of... "  
"Connected," Jack finished. He grinned at Jamie. "It was a long time ago, but it's still there. And we're here, together."  
Despite everything, Elsa added silently.  
"So are you a Guardian, too?" Jamie asked Elsa.  
"No," she said quickly. "No, I'm not - "  
"She's with me," Jack broke in. He ran his thumb soothingly up and down Elsa's wrist. "In a way, it's almost like she's a Guardian already."  
Elsa smiled, but she held back her doubts. "How long have you known Jack?" she asked Jamie.  
He thought for a few moments. "About a year and a half, I guess."  
"That long?" Jack burst out, blowing out his breath in a huge sigh. "Wow, some Guardian I am."  
"It was okay," Jamie said, giving him a sideways smile. "I knew you were out there somewhere, so it was easy to believe in you." He shrugged. "You aren't very forgettable, you know."  
Elsa tried to ignore the cold flush of guilt that threatened to paralyze her. "So then you must know some things about Jack that I don't," she said, forcing her voice into an easy mixture of casual and teasing. "Some stories, perhaps?"  
Jack looked back and forth between them, panic growing on his face as Jamie's eyes lit up. "Yeah," the boy said, "I've got a few that come to mind."  
He had just finished telling her about the time when Jack turned the streets into an icy race course, resulting in a lost tooth, when there were loud footsteps outside the bedroom door. It opened just enough to allow a young blond-haired girl to slip inside. "Do you have my markers?" she asked.  
Jamie sighed. "No. Why would I have your markers?"  
The girl shrugged. "I dunno, that's why I asked."  
"Is that - " Jack stepped forward. "Is that Sophie?"  
"Yeah," Jamie said distractedly, turning back to the small girl. "I don't have your markers. Did you ask mom if she has them?"  
Sophie hesitated for a few seconds then shook her head. "Can I borrow yours?"  
Jamie crossed his arms. "Yeah, okay, but if you ruin them again, then I'm not letting you borrow my stuff ever again. Deal?"  
"Deal," Sophie said, holding out her arms expectantly.  
Jamie groaned. He rummaged in his desk for a moment before coming back with a neat box of coloring utensils. He handed them to Sophie, who scampered off, the box clutched to her chest.  
"That's Sophie?" Jack asked the moment she was gone. "She looks so... different."  
"Yeah. She's in kindergarten now, so mom always makes her wear her hair pinned to the side like that so it's out of her eyes," Jamie said, shutting his door quietly. "She still likes to sleep on the floor, though."  
"I'm sorry," Elsa broke in, "I suppose I missed something - who is Sophie?"  
"My sister," Jamie said. He sighed loudly. "She's really become a pain lately. I guess all little kids go through some weird phases when they grow up, but sometimes she's just plain annoying."  
"She won't be that way forever," Elsa said. She recalled the way Sophie held out her arms, like she knew she would be obeyed, and the delighted smile when she got what she wanted. Perhaps every little girl looked or acted that way when they grew up, but to Elsa, Sophie reminded her of Anna - all those expressions, the smiles, the pleading way of talking - Anna was in every one of them. She could see her sister's face now, in her mind -  
Am I forgetting her? Elsa wondered. The thought struck her so forcefully that she gasped, suddenly feeling as though she couldn't breathe. It's been so long - countless years between then and now. I remember her face and her smile and the effortless charm she had and her little quirks and her voice -  
No... I can't remember her voice. Horror shot through her and she covered her face with her hands. I can't remember what she sounds like. I can't remember at all. She remembered Anna's words, her constant question throughout the years - "do you want to build a snowman?" - but they were simply that: words. There was no voice that accompanied the memory, none at all.  
Remember! she begged herself, squeezing her eyes tight and forcing her brain to recall her sister's voice. If I can't remember her voice, if she isn't there inside my head, then she's gone. She's gone, completely gone, like she's never been...  
There's nothing of her left.  
"Elsa?" Jack's arm circled around her back, tentative and gentle. "What is it? What's wrong?"  
Elsa shook her head, but she couldn't speak.  
He was quiet for a moment. "Would... would you feel better if we left?"  
Elsa stiffened. Suddenly she remembered where she was. How must Jack feel, to see her break down in front of his friend? And Jamie - what did he think, to see her fall apart in the middle of the conversation? She shivered.  
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. I'm pitiful, she thought. I can't even keep myself together. She didn't want to look at Jamie, but she did; he was staring at her, a look of dismay frozen on his face. "Jamie, I'm so sorry. I'm - I'm not well. Please, forgive me."  
He nodded jerkily. "Yeah, of course."  
Elsa dropped her head and Jack's arm tightened around her. "We'll see you around, Jamie," he said. If he was displeased they were leaving so soon, it wasn't audible in his voice.  
"Sure," Jamie said. "Whenever. I'll be here."  
They climbed through Jamie's window, and Jack let the wind take them away. He kept his arm around Elsa as they flew, and she was glad of his touch; she still wasn't used to traveling through the air, and she didn't feel up to the task of pretending that she did. She also wasn't looking forward to the moment that he would ask her hat was wrong. Certainly he expected an explanation for her behavior - and wouldn't anyone, given the way she had just acted? - but she wasn't sure she had a satisfactory answer to give.  
Elsa kept her eyes closed until she felt solid ground beneath her feet. Immediately she broke away from Jack, her hands creeping up to hug her upper arms. "I'm sorry," she said. "Jack, I... I didn't mean - "  
He sighed behind her. "No, maybe I'm the one that should say I'm sorry. I don't know what upset you, Elsa, but - "  
"Don't apologize!" she cried. She hunched her shoulders and dug her fingers into her arms. "It's me, Jack, it's all... it's all my fault."  
"You said that before." The dry leaves of autumn crunched under his feet as he took a step forward. "I don't see how that's true. You aren't to blame, Elsa, I know you aren't. And don't say that this is about erasing your memories," he added as Elsa opened her mouth, "because I don't care about that anymore."  
That's not true. You know it isn't. Elsa swallowed hard. "I can't keep it together. I'm falling apart... and the only thing about me that isn't is my powers," she said, realizing as she spoke that it was true. I must feel comfortable with Jack on a subconscious level, because the ice within me always rages when I'm apprehensive.   
It was a nice consolation, but the recognition wasn't enough to curb her sorrow. "I'm imbalanced, Jack," she said, staring at her pointed shoes. "I'm sorry."  
"I hoped that going to see Jamie would make you feel better, but it didn't," Jack said. "I just... I won't ask why you're so tormented, Elsa, but I don't want you to be unhappy, either. Was it something I said, or Jamie? Just tell me what upset you, and I'll avoid it in the future, I swear."  
She held back a sob. I don't deserve him, she thought. I never did. "Not you," she managed, her voice shaking with tears. "It was never... it will never be you. Your heart is so pure and kind, and you've always..." Emotion choked her, and she fell silent.  
Jack strode through the leaves to stand in front of her. "Please," he begged, "just tell me what's wrong."  
He was wearing that face again - like he was afraid that if he said too much or moved too fast, she would take flight like a panicked bird. And I promised I would never hurt him again, Elsa thought. A tear slipped down her cheek. Already another promise broken. Will there be no end to them?  
"I... I had a sister," Elsa choked out.  
Jack's eyes widened. "You - you did?"  
She shut her eyes and nodded. She brushed the tears away with her finger but they came faster and faster, a steady stream of hot salt that crystallized against her skin. "She was a lot like Sophie when... when she was younger... "  
"I'm sorry," Jack said. She heard him step closer. His hand reached up to lightly cup her face, his fingers radiating warmth. "Elsa, I'm so sorry."  
She could only nod.  
"I used to have a sister, too," Jack said softly, and Elsa's eyes flew open. He smiled sadly. "It was a long time ago."  
"What was her name?"  
He shook his head slowly. "I... don't remember."  
Elsa made a strangled sort of noise. She threw herself on Jack and wrapped her arms tight around him. That might be me, she thought. In another hundred years, maybe two, I could forget Anna forever. She buried her face against his neck. "Oh Jack," she gasped, trying not to think about it, or even imagine it. "Oh Jack, I - "  
"I know," he said. One of his hands pressed against her back, holding her against him. "It's hard. It's hard to remember how they were, what they meant to you..."  
Elsa took a trembling breath.  
"But it'll be okay," Jack said. "Over time, things will get better. I know they will."  
She knew he was right, but that was what terrified her. I don't want to forget, she thought, not a single thing - but it was impossible. She knew it was. Time had already begun its slow work on her, and she knew there was no way to bring the lost memories back.  
Instead she clung to Jack and tried to find solace in his arms.

They lingered until long shadows fell between the trees and the stillness of approaching night filled the air. Every word rang through the clearing, clear as falling rain, and when Elsa looked up at the darkening sky, the traces of memory were clear of her face. She told Jack Frost that she wanted to go and he carefully agreed, still treating her as though she was fragile. They flew away together as the last sliver of sun slipped below the horizon, and only then did Pitch Black let himself smile.  
So the Snow Queen was out and about again. That was surprising enough, but what was more - she had her memory back. How Jack had managed that feat, Pitch didn't particularly care, but he had to admit he was impressed.  
His nightmares would find out where they were hiding. And when they did - well, Pitch thought, I may have to pay the Queen a visit.  
A chuckle bubbled up in his throat and he let it echo through the air, dark and menacing. "It will be good to see you again, your highness," he murmured. "I can hardly wait."


	7. Devoid of Light

"And you're sure you don't want to go?" Jack asked.  
Elsa couldn't hold back the smile, even though they had been over this before. It had been Jack's idea to go back to Jamie informally, just to talk, but Elsa had refused. After the incident several days ago, she didn't feel comfortable returning there, knowing what Jamie must think. She had been doing better in the days since - Jack had begun to relax a little, and his smile was less strained, which she supposed was as good a way to judge her progress as any - but not enough to go back.  
Besides, she didn't want to tempt her raw emotions into a complete meltdown once again, especially if she happened to see Sophie, or if Jamie said something that was meant to be completely harmless.  
She still felt terrible about the way she had acted. She wasn't ready to face Jamie yet - not so soon.  
"I'm sure," she said, nodding. "I'll be better here, Jack."  
Jack looked up at her, worry stark in his eyes. "But I don't want to leave you."  
He had such a talent for uttering small, offhand phrases that managed to pierce her heart. Elsa swallowed, forcing the smile to remain in place on her face. "I'll be fine," she said. "I don't want you to worry about me."  
The traces of a wry smile appeared on his face. "Easier said than done."  
"Still," she pressed. "Please, Jack. I'll be right here. Where else would I go?"  
He gave a slow nod and glanced at their surroundings: a shallow cave they had found in the mountainside, high up by the peak. "True enough," he said. "I mean, you have to admit - this place is way too interesting to leave, after all."  
Elsa smiled weakly at his joke. She couldn't help remembering how they'd found the cave in the first place: the day after they visited Jamie, Jack had brought up the question about where they would stay. It surprised Elsa; back when she was still human, it would have been utterly indecent to stay overnight with an unmarried man. She knew Jack wouldn't hurt her - he always touched her so carefully, as if he didn't want to scare her away - but still, it was a strange concept to think about. With Pitch...  
Well, with Pitch the situation had been very different.  
So she had nodded and agreed that they needed someplace to stay. Jack, very naturally, mentioned the tower Elsa had built in Antarctica. He suggested that she could build something else for them, something new, and Elsa went rigid. She'd been doing so well the last couple days, but in that moment she couldn't help it - her mind jumped from the tower to the castle she had made on the North Mountain, and then she remembered when Anna came to visit her there...  
Her hesitation didn't last more than a couple of seconds, but Jack noticed. He immediately shrugged and told her they could do without 'modern comforts,' since he remembered a cave where he had spent some time in, many years ago, that overlooked the city. And when Elsa looked up at him, secretly relieved that he would not ask her to build something after all, he smiled in return.  
He is always so cautious, Elsa thought, and so careful not to cause me any sadness. She appreciated it, even though she knew she was a burden. I will get better, Jack, she told him silently. I promise I won't always be like this. Someday you won't have to carefully phrase your words or constantly watch to see if I overreact to your innocent words. With your help, I will heal.  
And it will be because of you.  
Elsa held out her hand. "I'll be here, Jack."  
He took her hand in his and squeezed gently. "I know," he said, though his warm tone didn't match his eyes. He didn't believe she could be safe.  
She stepped forward and wrapped her other hand around his. "Someday I will convince you," she murmured.  
Hurt flashed through his icy blue eyes. He opened his mouth - no doubt to apologize - but Elsa held up her hand before his mouth. She could feel his warm breath prickling against her fingers as his gaze darted up to meet hers. "I'll be alright," she told him gently. "Just... don't be gone long."  
Jack pressed his lips against her palm then pulled her hand down to his chest, where the v-shaped opening of his hoodie showed his collar bone. "I won't," he said, flashing her a quick smile. "I'll be quick as a bunny."

Elsa stood at the cave entrance long after he had gone. She watched the sun set behind the mountains and the city lights slowly blink on, one by one, then in waves. The stars appeared in the sky, scattered constellations she no longer remembered the names to, and all the world seemed peaceful and dark. Finally Elsa retreated to the back of the cave and stared at the snowy ground and the frost-touched stone walls. It was the first time she had been alone since Jack had found her on the bridge nearly a week ago, and she felt... what, exactly?   
She wasn't scared. It was reassuring, because a part of her had wondered if she would be. She had been miserable before, after she'd left Pitch, when her memories pressed in around her. But now... She still felt the ever-familiar weight of guilt hovering at the edges of her mind, but it didn't suffocate her, as it had then...   
She felt light.   
Well, lighter, anyway.   
It was an odd sensation. She didn't feel lost without Jack's presence, as she'd feared she would. She supposed that meant that she wasn't reliant on him for her happiness and stability, and that was good. It was a step toward healing and getting better - becoming herself again.  
The realization was a relief, of course. But she still felt...  
...restless.  
Yes, that was what the feeling was.   
Elsa glanced over at the pile of snow in the back corner of the cave. Jack had jokingly called it his easy chair, though to Elsa it seemed more like a pile of lumpy pillows than a piece of furniture. Usually when Jack talked to her he liked to lean against it, so Elsa never got the chance to see it properly. As she studied it now, the shape of the snow vaguely reminded her of something. No, of someone.  
"... Olaf," Elsa whispered. The name sounded foreign on her tongue. She stared down at it thoughtfully, recalling the small snowman she had magically and inexplicably brought to life, long ago.   
And I could do it again, her mind whispered.  
The thought stunned her. She wasn't that sort of person anymore - someone who could create castles out of ice, or make talking snowmen to entertain her sister. She didn't have it in her to do that anymore. She didn't... deserve to be that person, anymore. She didn't have the right.  
"I can't," she murmured. "I'm sorry."  
Whether she was speaking to herself or Olaf, she wasn't sure.  
A shadow fell over the scattered snow at her feet, and Elsa realized suddenly that there was no sound; the wind, which constantly shrieked as it swept over the mountainside and between the rocks, had gone still. The silence was eerie and strange, and a shiver traveled down Elsa's spine. She had felt this phenomenon before.  
No. Elsa slowly turned. It couldn't be.   
He stood in the cave mouth, tall and slim in his black cloak, looking very much like he did that day so many years ago when he first came for her. Elsa took in his motionless stance, his arms clasped behind his back, his gaunt cheekbones and golden eyes, which were fixed on her. She sucked in a breath. And he's come for me again, she thought, just like before.  
"The Snow Queen." Pitch's voice was like velvet. "My, how well you look."  
"Pitch." In contrast, Elsa's voice sounded strangled and thin. Her fingertips began to shake with the unmistakable stirring of her powers and she hid them in the folds of her skirts.  
"It's been a long time." He slowly advanced, and Elsa scrambled back. "Though," he amended, "not so long to you, I suppose."  
"W-What are you doing here?" she breathed. Her eyes flickered between his face and his feet. If he came one step closer...  
"Is it not enough to want to see an old friend?" Pitch asked. He took another step. "I simply - "  
Elsa flung up her arm, willing the ice inside her to obey. It came faster and stronger than she expected, freezing into a wave of spikes that shot straight toward Pitch. He parried the attack, droplets of shadow splattering across the ground like blood. "Stop!" he shouted, but Elsa had already whipped out her hand in a second assault. Daggers of ice flew through the air, but Pitch dodged them all. He shrank into the darkness of the cave wall and Elsa, well aware of his skill in stealth, sprang into the center of the room, her hands ready in a defensive position.  
She did not see Pitch slip out of her shadow until it was too late. She spun around, ice screaming from her fingertips, but Pitch caught her wrists deftly in his larger hands. "Let go of me!" she cried, straining against him.  
"Listen to me. Listen to me." He waited until she looked up at him before slowly shaking his head. "I did not come here to duel with you."  
"But you - "  
"You attacked first, highness." He released her and stepped back, palms upraised. "As I said, I came here to see you."  
Elsa couldn't stop the dubious question from leaving her lips. "Why is that?"  
"Because I want to talk. Last time I saw you, you weren't exactly in the mood."  
"Yes," Elsa said. She remembered the day he came to Antarctica, to see her in the tower. He'd only spoken to her for a few minutes before he grew tired of her obvious amnesia and left. "You told me I was lost to you."  
"I did, and yet here you are - safe and sound, thanks to Jack Frost." He slowly lowered his arms. "For the record, though, I came to you first."  
Elsa's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes," she conceded, "but it's not - it's not a competition."  
"Of course it isn't," he agreed smoothly. "Just noting the passage of time. You've seemed to endure its' effects well enough."  
Elsa blinked. She had forgotten how quickly and seamlessly Pitch could change the conversation. "I never noticed before, when I was - well..." Elsa lowered her eyes. "I didn't have time to notice such things."  
"It was a nasty shock, I assume."  
She nodded. "It still is. Everything is so different, and very strange. The entire world has transformed into something new, but I'm still the same." She glanced at him. "As are you."  
"I did warn you about the immortality of legends and tales." The corner of his mouth lifted up in a smirk. "Isn't it thrilling to be stuck as you are, forever and ever?"  
"No. I feel like I don't... I just..."  
"Don't belong?" he asked dryly. He looked away. "I know the feeling."  
Elsa nodded slowly. She remembered the first day they met - in a situation that was so curiously like this one - and what he'd said about their similarities. He had held out his hand and showed her the darkness that dwelt within him, saying only, "I, too, have a power that people fear."  
Fear. Was that not also a reason she had been pretending to be accustomed to the modern city? "Yes," Elsa agreed. "I suppose you must."  
"But I forgot that you have Jack Frost," Pitch said, shrugging. Even after the many years they had been apart, Elsa could detect the layer of sarcasm hidden in his voice. "That won't be a problem for long, I think."  
"He has been very kind to me." Elsa smiled, recalling his concern and encouraging words.  
"And you trust him."  
"I do, yes."  
"Then you must have told him the truth," Pitch said pointedly, looking over his shoulder at her.  
Elsa's eyes widened. She stared at Pitch and he stared back, waiting for an answer. "I - " she began, then her throat closed around her words and she swallowed.  
"Ah." He slowly turned back to face her. "Not enough to tell him about the past, then."  
She shook her head.  
"Anna was once the dearest person in your life," he mused, "and yet - "  
"I can't!" Elsa burst out. "Jack is a Guardian, and I... " She squeezed her eyes shut. "He would despise me if he knew."  
Pitch shrugged indifferently. "He might, but at least you've only killed one person. That kind of statistic could almost be excused as an accident."   
Elsa's hands closed around her upper arms. "But I - " she gasped. "I - I just - "  
He raised an eyebrow at her stutter, then nodded as realization dawned on his face. "Well. Then it wasn't just an accident, after all."  
She let out her breath in a rush. She still remembered the old troll's face and her moss-green eyes looking up at her expectantly, waiting. Wanting her to grant the only thing she desired. "It was the price," Elsa explained haltingly. "I had to - to be free of my memories."  
"An interesting form of payment," Pitch commented. "Speaking of, why did you forcefully remove all recollections of the past?"  
"I buried them," she corrected him.  
"Because...?"  
"Because I couldn't... live with myself, remembering what I had done."  
"You lived just fine before."  
"Yes," Elsa admitted. "I did." She looked up into his golden eyes. "The memories... they weren't too much, when... when you and I... "  
Pitch tilted his head to the side. "And now?" he queried. "How do you cope with them, now that you remember?"  
"I don't," she said bluntly. The hard tone of her voice stunned her and immediately she hastened to correct herself. "I mean, it's been fine, here, with Jack. He tries - "  
"But he doesn't know," Pitch finished for her.  
Elsa shook her head. "It just isn't easy. I was too used to - " Quickly she cut herself off, worried she had said too much.  
But Pitch was far too clever for that. "I see," he said, and his lips curved upward in his trademark smile. "You can have my assistance again, if you just ask."  
"No." She stepped away from him. "I don't want to forget again - "  
"You won't," he said, his voice soothing. "Don't tell me you don't remember how it works."  
"I..." The truth was that Elsa did remember; the darkness took away the pain of the past, but it did not erase the memories. When she was with Pitch, Elsa had remembered the horrors of her parents' deaths and the coronation, all the way up to when Anna turned to ice before her eyes - but the emotion was gone. She recalled feeling sorrow and guilt, but they had not affected her until that evening when Pitch pushed her to kill Santa Claus.  
That night... she had nearly killed again.  
"You shaped me into a monster," Elsa said, shuddering. "I trusted you and relied on you - "  
"I helped you with everything you asked."  
"But you taught me your way to fight, and how to be cold and cruel - !"  
"You learned that yourself," he said calmly, his words devastatingly simple.  
And he was right. Elsa knew he was right - everything he said was true. "You're lying," she said desperately, but Pitch shook his head.  
"I never lie," he said, "much less to a queen."  
She had no answer to that. Murderer, Pitch had once called her, and it was truer now than it had ever been.  
Remorse rose inside her, threatening to swallow her whole. Elsa covered her eyes with one hand, stifling a sob. "Will it never end?" she gasped, turning away. "The sadness and heartache, will it never... "  
"You know the answer to that."  
She sucked in her breath. "But it would hurt Jack - "  
"Perhaps," he said, his voice coming nearer. "But Jack Frost hasn't know the sort of pain you've experienced. He woke up without his memories; they have always haunted you."  
Elsa brushed the icy tears from her cheeks. "He told me he had a sister."  
"Yes, he's learned about her since. But that isn't the same, is it?"  
No, Elsa thought. Not quite.   
"What do you want?" Pitch asked. "You are not happy, so what do you want?"  
Elsa looked up at him. His silent footsteps had brought him face-to-face with her, but for once Elsa did not feel that his gaze was judging her or seeing her as weak. For once the hostility seemed gone from his eyes, and when he looked at her, it was like he was looking at an equal.  
"I want Anna back," she whispered.  
"Not possible," he replied.  
"Then I want to have peace from the pain of losing her," Elsa said. More tears formed in her eyes but they did not fall. "I know that forgetting her is natural and to be expected, but... but... "  
Pitch's voice was soft. "Tell me what you want, Elsa."  
Her name. He said her name so rarely -   
Elsa blinked the tears away. "I want your help, Pitch Black."  
His mouth stretched into a grin. Soft as a whisper, gentle as moonlight, Pitch pressed two fingers under her chin and tilted her face toward him. I'm sorry, Jack, she thought, her eyes fluttering closed as Pitch leaned down to kiss her.

Jamie was working at his desk when Jack arrived, the small lamp casting the side of his face entirely in shadow. Jack tapped the window and Jamie started and looked up, his cheek lifting in a smile. He dropped his pencil and hurried over, and Jack listened as the window lock popped open with a soft click. Jamie slid the window up and Jack climbed in, his feet landing soundlessly on the wood floor.  
"Hey, I'm glad you're back again so soon." Jamie cleared his throat and shrugged awkwardly. "I don't know what happened the other day, but - "  
"It's alright," Jack said, sighing. "Don't worry about it."  
"Do you think I offended her?"  
Jack smiled a little at the anxious note in his friend's voice. "No. She's just - she's just been going through a few things recently. Well, for a long time, actually."  
"Yeah?"  
"Yeah," Jack sighed. He looked up at Jamie, who was staring at him with wide eyes. If anyone might understand what Elsa was struggling with, it would be Jamie, he thought. Jack sighed again, reluctant to let out the truth even though he trusted Jamie completely. "She... she spent a while with Pitch."  
"Pitch?" Jamie echoed, his mouth falling open. "Pitch Black?"  
"Yeah."  
"So she was like... like his ally, or something?"  
"Or something," Jack agreed. He didn't like to think about what Elsa had really meant to Pitch Black, or worse - what he had meant to her.  
"Whoa," Jamie breathed. He blinked a few times as he processed the information. "How long was she with him?"  
"Long enough," Jack muttered, crossing his arms. "I met her once when she was still with him, and she was different. She was sad, but she wasn't..." Jack searched for the right word and failed. "... like this. I don't know what Pitch did to her, or what he made her do, but he broke her spirit completely. I've been trying to get her back ever since."  
Jamie nodded slowly. "If anyone can bring her back to herself, Jack, it's you."  
Jack couldn't keep the desperation from his voice. "I hope so." Elsa seemed so fragile now - everything he did seemed to set her off. So he had to be careful, so very careful, in case he lost her completely.  
It was those fleeting, delicate instances when she opened up that kept him trying. Every time she smiled or clasped his hand, he remembered the first time she touched him - the soft bloom of ice crystals on his face, her power interacting with his, and the comforting warmth that he knew was no mere coincidence - and how wonderful that was.  
Maybe, he had thought, I'm not meant to be alone.  
And he still didn't want to be alone. He was reminded of that every time Elsa reached for him, and he found himself thinking... no, more like hoping...  
He stifled a sigh. How to explain? All of this was so new, so different from anything he had experienced in his three hundred years of life. When she looked at him, his mind was full of her. When she smiled at him, he had to remember to breathe. When she reached for him, he reached for her, and when she touched him, something inside him fizzled and glowed. Jack had never been overheated before, but he supposed his reaction was something like that. It was a dizzying, heady feeling, and he wanted more.  
He wanted more of her.  
Elsa. Her name was like a sigh in his mind. She was beautiful, elegant, and so breakable right now. He didn't want to treat her too delicately, but he also didn't want to frighten her with his strong emotions. It was a weird sort of balance game that he played, and Jack feared he was stifling her with his caution, but he didn't know what to do. He couldn't help but hate Pitch each time he thought about it. If I ever see him again, I'll make him regret every moment he spent breaking down Elsa's self-confidence and poisoning her mind, Jack thought angrily.  
I should have brought her with me. He'd wanted to, despite Elsa's claim that she would be alright on the mountain by herself. He was going to bring her with him, somehow - wheedle her down, maybe, or even beg - until she said those words that completely shattered him: "someday I will convince you."  
It isn't you, he thought, knowing she wouldn't believe him even if he told her. It isn't that I don't trust you, Elsa. Not at all.  
It's just that neither of us were meant to be alone.  
"Hellooo," Jamie called, and Jack started, broken from his reverie. "You alright in there?"  
"Yeah," Jack said. He shook his head to clear away his lingering thoughts. "Sorry. I was just... it worries me, sometimes."  
"I can tell." Jamie gave him a sympathetic smile.  
He scrubbed a hand over his face. "I just don't know how to get through to her."  
"You will," he encouraged. "You're a Guardian, remember?"  
"Yeah, well... " He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know how much a Guardian of Childhood and Fun can do in this situation. Elsa isn't like any of the kids I've been able to cheer up. Her problem isn't as simple."  
"No, but I think being with her will help," Jamie said. "You're different too, Jack. Your optimism will rub off on her sooner or later. She'll get better just by being around you, I know she will."  
Jack looked up. Jamie's words tickled his mind, reminding him of the real reason why he returned. "That's kind of like - that sort of the reason I came back," Jack said. "Remember that book? The one you showed us, the one called The Snow Queen?"  
"Yeah." Jamie pointed to where it sat on top of the stack on his chair. "I reread it after you guys left."  
Jack did a double take at the large volume. "You read that whole thing - ?"  
"No, just the story. It's - it's a complete collection of stories by the author." He glanced back at Jack. "What about it?"  
"You mentioned something about a character in the book being 'pure of heart'," Jack said. The phrase had stuck in his mind for days, ever since Elsa had tearfully labeled him as too pure and kind to hurt her - a phrase that, when she spoke, immediately reminded him of Jamie's curious synopsis of the story The Snow Queen. The rest of the story might not be true - and the part about three kisses being a death sentence was absolutely wrong, he was sure of it - but maybe there was a part of it that was. Maybe there was something in the story that could help.  
"Anyway," Jack continued, "it made me wonder... well, what the rest of the story was about."  
"Oh, sure." Jamie retrieved the book and held it out to Jack, who slowly took it. "Do you want to borrow it?"  
"Uh... yeah, I guess... do you really want me to borrow it?" Jack asked. "I mean, you probably won't get it back in as nice a condition as you leant it to me. I mean, just saying. I don't exactly lead a very safe life - "  
Jamie gave Jack a look. "Just take it."  
"So if I ruin this, does it mean that you won't let me borrow any of your stuff again?"  
"Ha ha, Jack," Jamie said, rolling his eyes. "You're not my sister, so I'm pretty sure I can make some allowances."  
"Alright, just making sure where we stand." Jack grinned and tucked the book under his arm. "Thanks, Jamie. I'll bring it back soon."  
Jamie nodded. Jack climbed onto the windowsill, careful not to bang his staff against the glass, and paused when Jamie asked, "so, uh... then I guess you and Elsa aren't... you aren't really together, then."  
"...no," Jack said after a moment. He shrugged off the word like it was nothing, but the motion was only half-hearted. "No, we aren't."  
Jamie's only reply was a sad smile in return.

Jack wasn't sure what he would say to Elsa when she saw the book. Maybe it could be explained away as a bit of light reading? No, she'd see though him. Plus, she might have already figured out that Jack wasn't much of a reader to begin with.  
He sighed. He guessed he'd just have to tell her the truth: that he was hoping the book could help. Maybe it would give them some idea about how to throw Pitch's lingering memory out of her mind, and help her be free. Even if it was something small, something that would help him understand, or that Elsa could identify with, then it would be worth it.  
He hoped she would think so, too.  
Jamie's right, Jack thought as he landed on the side of the mountain, snow spraying at the impact. We need to be in this together. "Elsa!" he called, striding forward through the snow to the cave. "Hey, I'm back!"  
She didn't appear, and Jack squashed down the first inkling of fear that crept up his spine. She's probably asleep or something, he thought, forcing his gait into a steady walk. "Hey," he announced, ducking into the cave entrance. "I'm back from Jamie's... "  
She was gone.  
Don't panic, he told himself, taking a step inside. It was silent - abnormally so. There's got to be an explanation. She wouldn't just - she couldn't just leave -   
And then he froze. A spray of darkness was streaked across the ground, staining the snow and turning the rocks an oily black. Jack stepped forward, holding his breath as he nudged one of the shadow droplets with the end of his staff. It was soft and was definitely lifeless - completely unlike the black sand that Jack hoped it was. The Nightmares didn't come for her, Jack thought, his eyes narrowing. It was the Bogeyman himself.  
"Dammit," Jack hissed. "Dammit, dammit."  
He shut his eyes. His mind was a raging haze of wrath, totally incapable of formulated thought. His hand gripped his staff so hard that his fingers went numb. "Pitch Black," he spat, his fury audible in every syllable.  
He hoped Pitch was ready for a fight, because that was exactly what he was going to get.


	8. A Star in the Dark

Jack tried to think things out as he flew - what he was going to say to Pitch, how he'd have to duel the Bogeyman to get Elsa, and how Pitch was probably waiting with that smug, evil, arrogant grin on his face - but he couldn't organize his thoughts into a semblance of cohesion before all of his anger came rushing back.  
Pitch was going to suffer. Jack would make him suffer. He wanted to see the Nightmare King cower - no, writhe on the floor in agony, as Jack was sure Elsa was suffering.  
Elsa.   
Jack pulled his staff close against his body, trying to make himself as aerodynamic as possible. He couldn't alter the speed that the wind possessed - he had never wanted to, before - but now he wished he had North's snow globe to instantly transport himself to Pitch's caverns. He should have been there already, to wipe away Elsa's tears and pull her trembling body into a protective embrace.  
She was probably so scared.  
All Jack could see in his head was Elsa's face the last time he'd seen her, when she smiled at him so calmly, so reassuringly. She'd told him she was going to be fine, and she had been doing so well... she had been healing, for crying out loud, and he'd believed her. Like a fool, he left her behind, unprotected -  
My fault, he berated himself as he had a hundred times since he'd stumbled back from Jamie's to find Elsa gone. It's my fault. If I hadn't gone to find out more about that stupid story... I knew that Elsa still needed to be taken care of, and that Pitch was still interested in her...  
"Dammit," Jack hissed. He swooped between the misty clouds in a tight arc, the rapidly-approaching ground coming into focus as he shot toward it like an arrow. It wouldn't be too long until he reached the woods and the entry to the Bogeyman's lair, but that still wasn't fast enough for Jack. He gritted his teeth, willing himself to hurry.  
If Pitch had hurt Elsa - if he'd reduced her to that shaking, tearful girl that she was before - if he'd injured her, or so much as touched her in any way -  
I'll kill him.  
The fact that the thought shocked only a small part of Jack's mind should have bothered him, but he wasn't in the mood to care. He had no doubt what the other Guardians would have said, but they weren't there. Just me and Pitch, Jack thought. He landed in a spray of fallen leaves and rolled to his feet, not bothering to pick off the strays that clung to his hoodie and then reluctantly fell away as he walked. Just the two of us. And if something happens to him - if our fight does kill him -   
Then I don't think I'll mind.  
He strode to the hole in the ground that served as the entry to Pitch's domain and dropped himself inside. He landed in a crouch on the cold concrete and straightened, gazing at the familiar shadowy sight of the Bogeyman's home. He flipped his staff over his head and slammed the end on the ground, listening with pride as the sound boomed through the darkened caves. "Pitch Black!" he hollered. "Come out! Show yourself!"  
He waited until his voice faded into silence. Apart from the small cascade of unseen rocks, there was nothing.  
So Pitch wanted to play this game, did he? Well, Jack had no patience for it. "Bastard!" Jack shouted, swinging his staff sharply upward. Streaks of frost and ice shot up toward the ceiling, striking one of the old cages that had once held countless of Toothiana's baby teeth. The ancient chain snapped and the cage hurtled down, splintering with a terrible crash into a mass of twisted metal and deadly frost. "Face me!" Jack screamed over the echoing din. "You coward!" He glared into the shadows with narrowed eyes, his muscles tensing as he waited for the blur of darkness and yellow eyes that he knew would betray Pitch's hiding place. "Pitch Black! Fight me!"  
"He isn't here, Jack."  
Jack whirled around, his staff raised in an attack position. Then his brain registered the identity of the speaker and he froze, his eyes widening. Elsa stepped out from behind the ruin of Pitch's skeletal globe, one hand trailing along the rusted edge of Africa. Her icy blue gown was luminous in the half light, the tiny crystals sparkling like morning dew. Her eyes were blue as the sky, blue as the oceans as they met his, and Jack felt his terrible anger begin to slip away. She was like a sculpture of ice, beautiful and perfect - no, like an angel, her majesty too flawless and bright for him to look at directly.  
In the darkness, she was a star.  
"Elsa," Jack breathed. He dropped his arms, staring at her. Elsa stared right back at him, waiting for him to say more, and Jack opened his mouth to say something, anything -  
No, he thought abruptly. No, this isn't right. Something's wrong. He had come here expecting to battle Pitch for a scared, fragile girl who would have burst into tears of relief at the sight of him, or maybe even a girl who had withdrawn into herself to escape the horror of being kidnapped by Pitch -  
But Elsa was doing none of those things. She was standing tall, wearing a mild expression as she met his eyes. She had never looked like this in recent memory - not even when she was in Antarctica - and Jack couldn't stop the doubts that began to creep into his mind. Was she under some sort of spell? Had Pitch brainwashed her somehow? That sounds like something he would do, Jack thought, his hand tightening around his staff.  
"He's gone," Elsa said, and Jack met her eyes once again. "It's nighttime somewhere in the world, so Pitch went to attend to his duties."  
"Duties?" Jack echoed incredulously. Yeah, Elsa was totally brainwashed. "Is that what he calls torturing little kids with nightmares? His duty?"  
Elsa blinked She swallowed, lowering her eyes uncomfortably, and Jack took advantage of the hole in Pitch's spell to take a few steps closer. "Did he say when he would be back?"  
"No."  
"Good." Jack held out his hand. "Then come with me. We can be long gone by the time he returns."  
She looked up at him, her eyebrows scrunching together. "No, I'm not leaving."  
"Yes you are. I know you don't want to be here - "  
"But I do." Her hand curled around the southern-most tip of South Africa, as if her grip alone would keep her from being dragged away. "I want to stay here."  
Jack took a breath and tried to keep the impatience from his voice. "Elsa, c'mon, I know you're in there. I know you would never willingly choose to be with Pitch."  
"I did."  
"But you wouldn't."  
"But I did, Jack." She looked at him solidly, and Jack realized in dawning horror that there was truth on Elsa's face. Her serenity didn't come from being brainwashed - it came because she had made a decision.  
And she was planning on sticking to it.  
"No," Jack said. "No, I don't believe it."  
Elsa raised her chin. "It's true, Jack."  
"No," he said in a hard voice, "it isn't. What about your fear of Pitch? What about what he did to you?"  
"He didn't do anything to me. I did it to myself." Her voice was carefully monotonous, but he caught the slight waver at the end of her words.  
"That isn't true, and you know it! What about the battle that you had with Pitch in the cave? I saw the darkness he left behind, Elsa. He beat you, so he brought you here - "  
"I asked him to bring me here!" she interrupted. "I wanted to come!"  
"No! You wouldn't have left like that!" Somehow his open hand had turned into a pointing finger and he jabbed it at her angrily. "The Elsa I know wouldn't have left like that, without telling me or leaving me a note, or - or something!"  
Elsa squeezed her eyes shut. "I know," she said, angling her body away from his. "I know. I just... "  
"Stop covering for him!" Jack snapped, and then he caught himself before he could say any more. His anger wasn't at Elsa, after all. "Where is he?"  
She slowly shook her head. "I told you."  
His words were mocking. "And he trusted you enough to leave you alone?"  
"I'm alright by myself."  
"That's what you said last time," Jack said bitterly.  
Elsa turned back to face him. "Jack, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I... I've hurt you. I've always hurt you."  
Was that really why she left? Was that really, honestly, why she went back to Pitch? "I don't care about that," he fired back. "Elsa, you were getting better. You were healing, no thanks to Pitch. It doesn't matter what you do to me, so long as you're becoming more like your old self."  
She shook her head over and over again. "No," she moaned. "No, no, no. Jack, it's not... I'm not ever going to get better - not the way you want and expect."  
He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she gave him a painful look. "I told you that I had done some things in my past, and it's... they are things I can't... I haven't been able to forget." She swallowed. "Not by myself."  
"What do you mean?" Jack stepped forward. "Are you trying to forget your past again?"  
"No," she said. "I don't want to forget, but I just don't want to feel the guilt anymore."  
Jack clenched his jaw. "And you think Pitch will do that for you," he finished, knowing where this conversation was going.  
"He helped me when I was with him before," she admitted softly. "So when he came to me in the cave, I couldn't tell him no."  
Couldn't. Just like that. Elsa had gone back to Pitch because she couldn't say no. Jack turned his head away in an attempt to disguise his disappointment and frustration. And just what does he do that I can't? he thought, but didn't ask. He figured it had to do with darkness or manipulation, and he wanted to knowledge of what Elsa had subjected herself to. That would make him even angrier at her, and he didn't want to be.  
Instead he ran Elsa's words over in his mind and forced himself to ask slowly, "you say you feel guilty, but why? You haven't done anything to make Pitch's tricks be successful."  
He watched as she gulped. "I can't tell you, Jack."  
"Why not?" he asked, unable to stop himself. Why was it so difficult to keep his anger in check around her? "Oh, let me guess: did Pitch ask you not to tell, or - "  
"I just want you to think well of me!"  
Jack didn't respond. Elsa blanched as her words ricocheted off the slanted walls and broken arches, but Jack could only stare at her in stunned silence. Was there something she had done? Was there some truth to her belief that she was to blame for a crime?  
No. No, that was impossible. Elsa couldn't do anything truly heinous, that just wasn't imaginable. It couldn't be.  
But the look of horror and self-hatred breaking across Elsa's face brought the first flicker of doubt to Jack's mind. She isn't capable of evil, Jack thought. ...is she?  
She turned away completely now, her train shimmering with the iridescent beauty of snowflakes and frost. "It would be best if you left, Jack," she said quietly. "Go quickly, before Pitch returns."  
Pitch. He was probably the one who had made Elsa do what she now lamented. "No," he said, so firmly that Elsa turned around to look at him. "I'm staying."  
She stared at him as if he had gone mad. "But he could be back at any moment - "  
"And when he does, I'll be ready." Jack flipped his staff over in his hands and held it cross-wise before his chest. "It's time we settled this, Elsa. Believe me, Pitch has had this coming."  
"You'll fight him," she whispered.  
The corner of his lips tipped upward. "Oh, yeah. Absolutely."  
"No!" Elsa took a few steps toward him and then abruptly stopped, as if caught at the end of an invisible rope. "Jack, if you did that, you'd be no different than Pitch!"  
"We are nothing alike!" he shouted, but he knew even as he spoke that he was wrong. The fact that they both wanted Elsa was only the last in a long list of similarities and comparisons between them.  
He hated that.  
Elsa shook her head slowly. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "You were the light I never had, Jack. You gave me the opportunity to be a different person, to be innocent and free... but that's not who I am. I can't pretend that, not anymore, and I know that if I do, I'll just corrupt you, too. So don't... " She swallowed. "Don't come for revenge. Don't be like Pitch, Jack. Don't be like him."   
Jack stared at her, lost in the complex puzzles of her words. It didn't make any sense. So she wanted to be with him... but she didn't, because she couldn't be herself?  
And he didn't want to fight Pitch for revenge.  
Well, not entirely, anyway.  
"Don't ever change," Elsa whispered, her voice sad and pleading.  
Jack sighed. "Elsa," he beseeched her, "if you'd just tell me - "  
"I can't." She turned away from him completely, then, and Jack knew the action for what it was: a dismissal.  
For now, he thought, touching the end of his staff gently against the ground. "Whatever Pitch does to you, it isn't right," Jack said slowly. "Are you really happy, living like this? Are you as happy as you were when you were with him before?"  
Elsa's shoulders tensed, and Jack knew she was remembering the conversation they'd had when they first met. No, he told her silently. You aren't happy. Just like you weren't happy then.  
"Darkness doesn't fix anything," he told her. "You knew that once, Elsa, and one day you'll remember it again."  
"Just go." Elsa's hands curled into fists at her sides.  
"Pitch's shadows won't help you," he continued, as he she hadn't spoken. "It only has the power to destroy. It can't heal you."  
"Jack, please - "  
"You'll remember, Elsa," he said, the conviction in his words making them strong. "I'll help you see that it's true, no matter what - "  
"Get out!" She spun around, ice spraying out of her hands in a deadly arc. Jack skipped back just in time and looked up, catching sight of the stark horror on Elsa's face. Her eyes darted to her hands and then back up at him. With an effort she lowered her arms to her side once again. "Just go," she said, moving her head sharply away.  
Jack shoved his free hand into his hoodie pouch. "Fine," he said, turning away. He leapt into the air and let the wind carry him away, out into the open sky and into the bright sunlight. He wondered if Elsa had lingered to see him leave.  
If Pitch really had gotten to her, then probably not.

Elsa watched Jack until he became a tiny speck of color against the bright sky. Even when she knew he was gone, she kept straining her eyes for him, certain she could still see his tousled silver hair and lanky silhouette if she only pushed herself.  
"Don't." Pitch's words came back to her from just the night before, as he pulled away from their kiss." Don't fight against the lure of the shadows. "  
"I won't," she'd whispered. She'd fully meant those words, then. She had no reason to fight the sweet oblivion of anesthetized emotion.  
And then Jack came.  
Elsa's heart was beating fast, like the pulsing beat of a raging storm. She unclenched one of her hands and pressed it against her chest, trying in vain to soothe away her anxiety. She'd known Jack would be upset - she'd known that. But she had never seen such raw, unbridled fury in all her life. Elsa shuddered, remembering how that dangerous light in his eyes had fallen on her. For a moment she could believe that his anger meant for Pitch had really been for her -  
Me, and all my past crimes.  
She had never been more relieved that she'd gone with Pitch. At least then Jack would never know what she had done.  
And yet his face had changed, all his emotion going slack when she admitted that she had left voluntarily. And when he looked at me, he looked so hurt, so injured, like it was a betrayal. It was a betrayal, and I had been the one to hurt him, once again -  
Elsa clenched her fist in the delicate gauzy weave of the ice fabric above her collarbone. She expected it to snap and crunch in her hands, but it was stronger than she expected. Jack... She stared up at the sky, wishing she had found the right words to say so he wouldn't have been hurt. She wished she didn't make him so miserable every time they spoke, but he asked too much. He'd always asked too much, even from the first day they met -  
A gentle breeze ghosted against her neck, and Elsa stiffened. "Well done," Pitch's low voice murmured behind her. "You sent him off better than I ever could."  
She turned to glance at him. "Pitch. I thought you left."  
"In a manner of speaking," he agreed smoothly, his footsteps a whisper on the cracked pavement as he came up close behind her. "I arrived in time to see the crescendo and your glorious finale."  
"It wasn't glorious," she said softly, turning away again.   
"No?" His fingertips trailed across her back, from one shoulder to the other. Elsa barely suppressed the shiver that skittered up her spine. "I haven't seen you this strong, this powerful, since... well, since you were by my side all those years ago."  
Elsa shook her head. He thought she was strong? She had felt anything but. "I hate arguing," she explained. "I always have, especially with the people that I... "  
Pitch's fingers stilled. "Yes?"  
"The people that I care about," she finished quietly. She held herself still, in case the statement would enrage Pitch or tempt an influx of his trademark bitter musings.  
But Pitch did neither. He was silent for a few moments, and then chuckles, deep and soft as the touch of velvet, began to bubble up from behind her. "That's unfortunate," he said. "I find that altercations between clever minds are terribly interesting. Not that I've have the experience in a while," he added thoughtfully.  
Elsa tried to smile at the clever minds compliment, but her lingering uneasiness butchered the attempt. "I'm not sure I can find joy in something like that," she said slowly.  
"I know."  
"It's just that Jack - " She paused, only then realizing what he'd said.  
But Pitch was already pushing the conversation forward. "Yes, Jack Frost. You shouldn't worry about him; I'd be surprised if he returned any time soon."  
Elsa turned to face him. "Why?" Pitch didn't understand; Jack wouldn't give up so easily. He may have accepted her explanation for now, but he'd be back. He always came back - her experience in the tower taught her that.  
"Because you chose me over him," Pitch said. He, too, was looking toward the distant sky.  
"That's not what this is about," Elsa said, her eyes narrowing. "That isn't why I left - "  
He gave her one of his sly smiles. "Of course. But he won't see it that way."  
Elsa swallowed.  
"I can imagine what he might be feeling: anger, grief, frustration, despair, hatred - "  
"Hatred?" Elsa broke in, her eyes widening in shock.  
Pitch nodded. "It's a natural feeling, of course. I know it well."  
No, Elsa thought. No - Jack, hate me? But she had left for her own good, couldn't he see that? She couldn't cope, couldn't heal, so she had gone to Pitch because he had been the only one who had been able to relieve some of her misery.  
But Jack couldn't know that. She hadn't told him - she still couldn't tell him the truth, not even now - and she knew that it would hurt him. Betrayal. Yes, of course, that would be what he thought it was. But because of... because she'd chosen Pitch?  
Why would that hurt him...?  
Unless... Elsa sucked in a breath. Did he... did he feel... something for me? Something beyond his natural kindness and concern?  
Was that why his eyes had been so full of pain?  
"No," Elsa whispered, but even as she uttered the word, she knew it was true. All those looks, those rare smiles, those fleeting touches, those times where he didn't give up on her, when he always came back - that was because he cared about her.  
He cares. The idea was so sudden, so foreign in her mind. She stared, unseeing, at the ground as the words echoed again and again in her head. Jack cares. About me.  
And I... what do I feel? The thought startled her, and she realized she didn't know how, exactly, she felt about Jack in return. Do I... care about him, too?  
"It pains you, I see," Pitch said. His eyes flickered over her, and as Elsa met his eyes, she saw there was a sort of satisfied look in those golden depths. "Well," he murmured, "shall I take that away from you?"  
"No - " Elsa tried to pull away, but Pitch's arms were already around her, holding her close. She struggled against him, but Pitch was taller and he had braced one hand against the back of her neck, keeping her immobile. The moment his lips touched hers, the fight in Elsa died. She slumped in Pitch's embrace, lost in the darkness that swept over her, erasing her agitation. Then when Pitch began to pull away, she came back to herself, her pale fingers curling against the skintight fabric of his cloak. She rose up on her toes, her neck craning as she searched for his lips again. Her eyes fluttered closed, so she didn't see the twisted smile that curled Pitch's mouth as he lowered his head to kiss her again.  
"What did I tell you, Elsa?" he purred as she sank back down to her normal height and buried her face against his chest.  
"Don't fight," she replied sleepily. Pitch's voice was like a melody, a dark rhythm that lulled her down toward the shadows. So heavy, so soothing.  
"That's right." He squeezed her shoulder, his fingers digging into her skin. She didn't flinch. "That's right," he repeated softly. "So stop fighting."

Jack went back to the cave. He opened Jamie's book to the story of The Snow Queen and read it. Then he read it again. Then he read it one more time for good measure.  
It was an odd story, he decided as he flopped on his back in the snow. There were too many weird things in it to be taken seriously - like the part with the talking flowers and reindeer, which was stupid, because of course they didn't talk - and it obviously wasn't really a history of Elsa's past, since he was sure she had never been so despotic.  
But there were enough similarities to the current situation that Jack was glad he'd read it. His hunch about the story was right - the story clarified some things about Elsa and the sort of problems that she was facing.  
And he was the only one who could help.  
For starters, he'd probably have to fight Pitch. No - once he explained things, Pitch would be so angry that he'd want to fight Jack. The truth would be out in the open, and a duel would be inevitable, then.  
Maybe the Bogeyman would even be expecting it.  
Don't be like Pitch, Jack. Elsa's words echoed in his head, tinged with the same sadness that she had worn on her face earlier that day. Don't be like him.  
Don't ever change.  
"I'm not," Jack whispered. He stared up at the dim cave ceiling above him and remembered the few nights, not so long ago, where Elsa had curled up at his side. Her soft, warm breaths had tickled his neck and her hand had curled in a fold of his hoodie, her touch hesitant even in sleep. Now Jack turned to look where she had been, the silence and the frigid air a bitter reminder of what was missing.  
"It's you who's changed, Elsa."  
He needed to talk to North. He'd definitely know something that would help, especially in a fight against Pitch. Jack smiled, imagining the look on North's face if he asked to borrow one of his fighting sabers. Yeah, North would never let that happen, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.  
And he'd have to report what happened to Elsa - that she was, once again, with Pitch. She wasn't dangerous - it didn't look like she had been recruited for another chance at a hostile takeover of the world - but still, at least one of the Guardians should know.  
At least North wouldn't tell him 'I told you so', like Bunny would.  
Before long, Jack was in the air again. It feels like all I've done is fly from place to place, he grumbled to himself, and once again wished for the convenience of North's snow globe. Maybe I'll have to steal it from him when he goes in for one of those huge hugs of his, he thought.   
It didn't take too long to get to the North Pole, and soon Jack was striding past his favorite Yeti, Phil, and up towards Santa's personal workroom. He didn't bother to knock when he opened the door - that was the sort of action that would put him on the Nice List, and even as a Guardian, he was less interested in the prospect than ever - but he wished he had when he saw who was inside.  
"What are you doing here?" Jack demanded, outraged.  
"Well that's a fine way to say hallo," Bunny said with a smirk. "G'day to you too, mate."


	9. Whispers of War

"Don't g'day me," Jack retorted. The Easter Bunny had his massive feet propped up on the table, the chair balanced on its two back legs in a reclined pose. Jack held back a scoff, barely. What a lazy rabbit. "What are you doing in North's workroom?" he demanded. "Don't you have things going on in the Warren that you should be attending to? You know, away from here?"  
"Maybe," Bunny answered, rolling his shoulders. "Maybe not. Maybe I'm doing some work here."  
Jack gave him his best unimpressed glare. "Yeah? Doesn't look like it."  
"Well, you don't know everything, Frost." He lifted up his paw, revealing a sickly yellow yo-yo that pulsed with red lights every half second. "Lookie here," he taunted, bouncing it up and down . "I'm not sittin' on my backside doing nothing, now am I?"  
He arched his eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure that is the ugliest thing I've ever seen. Is that - is that glow-in-the-dark?"  
Bunny's mouth twitched. "Maybe."  
"Wow. Yeah, that really got rid of the impression that you're wasting time," Jack said sarcastically. "Where's North? I need to talk to him."  
"Getting more toys for me to test out."  
He stared. Bunny had to be joking. "You're not serious."  
"What else do you think I'm doing here?" Abruptly the cord on the yo-yo snapped, and the round disk bounced across the floor and under a cabinet. Jack bent over to look at it; the red flashing light was gone, but the main body of the yo-yo glowed faintly in the darkness.  
"And now it looks like you broke it," Jack said, straightening. He smirked at Bunny, who shrugged.  
"No worries." The rabbit leaned forward to grab a clipboard off the table by his feet and made a small notation near the bottom of the page. "Ten out of ten," he commented. "Bad percentage, there. The Yetis will have to design a new - "  
Suddenly the door burst open. "I bring more toys!" North exclaimed joyously, peering between an enormous armful of bright toys. He stomped over to the table and emptied the load, somehow managing to set each toy down carefully and in an upright position.   
Bunny sat up and reached for a racecar. "Hey North, the strings on all ten of the yo-yo's you gave me broke after only a few minutes - "  
North looked up at him, frowning. "Yo-yo? What yo-yo?"  
"The ones you told me to test out. Y'know, the ones in the box under the table."  
His face froze in surprise, and then he burst into laughter. "Not that box! No, I said big box, not little box. Yo-yo's are for Elves; children do not play with yo-yo's anymore."  
Bunny huffed in annoyance. "You didn't mention any bloody box size before."  
"I thought the Elves tested out the toys," Jack said, raising an eyebrow.  
"No no, we just let them believe - ah!" North's face brightened as he caught sight of Jack. "Jack Frost! You are back so soon! How did it go? Did you save your lady love?"  
The Easter Bunny's face split into a huge grin. "Oh ho! Yeah, now that ya mention it - I was wondering how the saga of Jack's cousin was goin'."  
"She's not my - " Jack groaned and scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it even messier than normal. "I really don't want to talk about this with you in the same room."  
Bunny snorted. "And here I thought you had become less of an arse than usual. Good thing I didn't get my expectations too high up, there."  
"Now now," North interjected, just as Jack opened his mouth for another volley of insults. "Jack would not come all the way back unless it was for something important. Bunny, let him talk."  
"Yeah," Jack said triumphantly, "and no commentary from you either."  
"Hey now, I'm entitled to my own opinions," Bunny said hotly.  
"Of course," North said soothingly, "but at this moment - "  
"You're not," Jack finished.  
Bunny sank back in the chair and crossed his arms, muttering something that sounded like, "bleedin' ratbag," and Jack tried not to snort in amusement.   
North ignored the unusual expletive and turned to Jack, clasping his hands together. "So! Tell me. Did Elsa remember you?"  
Jack sent a sneaky glance to Bunny, but the Guardian was only fixed him with a sullen look. "Yeah, she did," Jack said slowly. "We spent... I dunno, most of a week together, and then I went to go see Jamie - "  
"You left her so soon after you found her?" North interrupted. "Why not take her with you?"  
"Well, I did. The first time, anyway. She freaked out when she saw Sophie, so I didn't think she'd want to go back."  
"She was frightened of the little girl?" North interrupted again.  
"No, she said she had a sister and she missed her. I guess it happened a long time ago, but she still - "  
"But the memories were still strong enough to upset her?" North frowned thoughtfully. "Why, do you think?"  
"It just upset her, okay? And quit interrupting me! You're as bad as Bunny!" He glared at North, who sent a sideways glance at the person in question.  
"Guess that means I'm a bad influence on ya, mate," the Easter Bunny said, sharing the glance. A spark of his natural good humor returned to his face. "Glad our friendship isn't totally useless."  
North just shrugged, neither confirming or denying. "Nyeh."   
"Here's the thing, though," Jack said, clenching his staff tight in both hands. "When I was gone, Pitch came. He took Elsa."  
Bunny whistled. "Shcherbachov," North cursed.  
"Yeah, Pitch's as clever as a dunny rat." Bunny's nose wrinkled. "You said they used to be allies, right? Sounds like he wants he wants her back."  
Jack scoffed. The sound was hard and disbelieving. "Yeah, but I don't think it's because he wants her help to start another war."  
"You sure? Pitch is all about asserting his control and spreading darkness over everything. He won't stop until he's won."  
"I don't think so," Jack said darkly, "not this time. I think it's because he likes her."  
The other two Guardians stared at him, incomprehension stark in their eyes. "Like?" North finally echoed, sounding baffled.  
Jack ground his teeth. "Yeah, you know, like. As in, he cares for her. As in, he feels affectionate - "  
North burst into uproarious laughter, his enormous guffaws echoing through the small workroom. Jack felt his cheeks burn in a blush and he looked away from North's mirthful face, only to see Bunny frown. "Now hold on. Stop laughin', North," Bunny said.  
"I cannot help the amusement!" North gasped between his whoops of laughter. He hugged his stomach and rocked back and forth on his heels. "I have hard time believing - Pitch? Care for somebody? Really care? Ho ho ho!"  
"No, I'm serious." The Easter Bunny glared at Santa Claus until the laughing began to die down. "You know he has the ability to care, North. We've both seen it."  
North tried to keep the smile off his face and failed. "But - but really, he can't - "  
"I know it's been a long time," Bunny said, cutting across North's words in a hard voice, "but it could still happen. He cared once, y'know. Perhaps it's still there, inside him."  
The first traces of doubt began to creep onto his bearded face. "But.. it was so long ago. Surely the darkness killed every inclination that humanized him - "  
"Maybe not. It all depends on how strong he is." North and Bunny shared a look that clearly said, and we both know that Pitch is plenty strong.  
"Okay, hang on for a second." Jack stepped forward, glancing back and forth between the two Guardians. "You're saying Pitch was in love with someone else, before?"  
"Not... exactly, mate." Bunny shifted uncomfortably. "Not in the way you're talkin' about."  
"Then what are you talking about?"   
"It's Sandy you need to talk to," North said uncomfortably. "He knows, more than anyone else - "  
"Tell me," Jack demanded. He leveled a cold glance at Santa Claus and then at the Easter Bunny, waiting tensely until one of them caved.  
Predictably, it was North who cleared his throat first. "Pitch Black," he said slowly, "was not always Pitch Black. Once, he was great man - a general of men. He was wise. Kind."  
Jack raised an eyebrow, but he kept his skepticism to himself.  
"Long ago, he served as the prison guard over all the darkness and fearlings. Never once did they get free - except for one day. They used the voice of the one person he loved to call out to him. He panicked, opened the gate - and was taken by the darkness. That was day he became the King of Nightmares."  
"Then..." Jack swallowed. If North was right - and by the looks on the two Guardians' faces, it was the truth - then that changed things. Sort of. It only meant that Pitch wasn't completely evil, just mostly evil.  
At least he became evil trying to do something good, Jack thought unhappily, which, I guess, is better than being evil just because he could be. And that made a difference... didn't it? Good intentions changed everything.   
So does that mean Pitch isn't really as bad as he seems?  
No, that's ridiculous. Of course Pitch is evil. He may not have always been, but he is now.  
And yet, North said Pitch used to be a great man...  
Jack squeezed his eyes shut. That kind of circular thinking was making his brain hurt.  
"Then," he began again, looking up at North, "what voice did the darkness use to call to Pitch?"  
It was the only question that mattered, Jack supposed, but still North hesitated. Finally Bunny had to answer for him. "It was his daughter," he said quietly.  
Jack's mouth fell open. What in hell? his mind screamed, but the words wouldn't come to his lips. Pitch? With a daughter?  
At least he wasn't in love with another woman. At least he wasn't two-timing Elsa.  
Still - he had a daughter. Or did, anyway. She was probably dead by now. Jack was surprised by the twinge of pity he suddenly felt for Pitch. To open the gate to darkness because she called out to him... I guess he thought she was in there, with them.  
That's kind of... sad.  
But still. A daughter.  
Jack roused himself, and the first thing out of his mouth was, "that means Pitch is old."  
"Uh... yeah," Bunny said incredulously after a moment. "We all are. Except you."  
He shook his head. "No, I mean, Pitch had a daughter, but now he's creeping on Elsa." He shivered. "Ugh, that's all kinds of gross."  
North grinned in amusement. "Whatever the case," he said, "Bunny might be right - perhaps the darkness did not extinguish all light inside Pitch Black. His feelings could be real."  
"Maybe Elsa is helping to bring it back," Bunny added thoughtfully.  
"Don't you say that," Jack said warningly, turning to glare at him. "Pitch may care for Elsa... somehow... but it isn't real. He's just playing with us! I mean, you know how he loves to manipulate people, right? His feelings are probably just another way to trick Elsa, or to trick us into leaving her alone with him."  
"Isn't that what she wants, though?"  
"No!" Jack cried. "I don't believe it - I don't! I went to Pitch's caves, and I saw Elsa. She claimed she was at peace, but she wasn't. She was just - accepting. She wasn't going to fight the fact that Pitch kidnapped her. She said that it was right that she stay there with him - that it was better. That she caused less problems that way. Pitch may be feeling way too damn much about her, but she doesn't feel the same! She can't, not when she says that she stays away to spare me from pain!"  
Jack's words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with emotion. Bunny and North watched him, eyes wide, as his ragged breaths slowly lapsed into silence. Jack waited for a long moment, sure that neither of them would respond, and finally turned away.   
North dropped a heavy hand on the worktable. "Then," he said gravely as Jack looked up, "what is your plan?"  
"I'm going back," he said. "I thought you should know."  
"To talk to Elsa?"  
"Yeah, and also to see Pitch. I think I know... I think I've figured out what Pitch's hold over her really is."  
Bunny glanced at North and then to Jack. "How? Did you talk to Tooth?"  
"I... " Jack hesitated, struck by how simple the idea was. Tooth. Of course. Tooth would be able to help, if only Elsa would ask. "No," he admitted, wishing he had thought of it himself. Stupid, he sighed. Trying to fix everything yourself. At least this time, he was better prepared. "I read the legend about her."  
The Guardian shrugged. "A fair play."  
"Yeah. It's not 100% right, of course, but there's some truth in it. Enough to help, anyway."  
"Most of tales they tell about us do have some truth," North agreed quietly. He smiled. "Well. Good luck, Jack Frost. You will need it, when dealing with Pitch Black."  
"That's true," Bunny commented. "Just don't try to fight him. We've been lucky each time we've beaten him, but he's strong. I gotta be honest here, he'd definitely beat you in single combat."  
"Wow, thanks for the support," Jack said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.  
"Jack." North took a step forward. " I believe in you. Bunny, he believes in you, too. We all support you. If Elsa can be rescued, then I think you are one to do it."  
"Thanks."  
North nodded. "And when you steal her from Pitch, bring her here. I would like to meet the girl who has become your family."  
Jack looked up at him. He remembered the conversation they had before, in the paint closet next door. "She is my family," he said softly.  
"She is special girl," North said.  
He bobbed his shoulders. "Yeah, so... that kind of makes her your family, too."  
North's smile widened.  
Jack cleared his throat, trying to dispel some of the heaviness he suddenly felt in his chest. "I just have one request before I go," he said, ignoring the Easter Bunny's blatant stare.  
North blinked a few times in surprise. "A request?"  
"Yeah." Jack grinned and hitched his staff up over one shoulder. "I need to borrow your snow globe."

Elsa had been sleeping peacefully for some time, but still Pitch remained by her side, watching her. He noted the small details in her appearance: her thick eyelashes, dark against smooth skin; the gentle blush that graced her cheeks, even in sleep; the tiny snowflakes that sparkled in her pale hair; the weak light of the distant moon that illuminated the curve of her pale shoulder; the shadows that caressed her collarbone and the inside of her neck, casting her as a creature of equal brightness and darkness.  
Unlike him.  
It was necessary, what he'd done to her. Deceiving her. Elsa did not entirely comprehend how the darkness could aid a willing soul, but he did. The longer she fought, the harder it would be for her to move on.  
Someday, she would understand.  
Or she would not.  
Pitch carefully stood, his natural silence and stillness enabling him to move away from Elsa without disturbing her. He clasped his hands behind his back as he took a few steps away, distancing himself from the sleeping girl.  
Elsa. What to do with you?  
The shadows in his memory whispered to him, telling him what he already knew: that fateful day, when Elsa's father, the King of Arendelle, went to see the trolls, there were two predictions made about his ice-cursed daughter. The first, which Elsa was intimately familiar, was that fear would destroy her. That truth, which had already come to pass through Anna's death, had been enough to make her forget the second, more valuable prediction: that her power would only grow, becoming more deadly and expansive as time went on.   
Her strength was impressive enough in her own era, as reckless and raw as it was. Under his guidance, she had brought her abilities under control, learning to shape them and hone them both offensively and defensively. Despite her years afterwards of neglect and disuse, her gift had only multiplied. Her fighting skills may have lost their edge, but her talent would surely compensate for that loss.  
If Elsa allowed herself to release her long-contained powers, all the Guardians combined would not be able to stop her.  
It was an intoxicating thought. With her, Pitch could do things he once thought impossible. The Guardians would be dead - even Jack Frost, with all of his daring and invulnerability, would fall under Elsa's greatness - so there would be no one to stop him from bringing complete darkness and fear to a world so blissfully ignorant and sated with the light. His glory in the Dark Ages would be nothing, inconsequential, now that Elsa was by his side, freezing hearts and shattering dreams. He could take his place as an admiral of the heavens, the very stars in the sky at his command -  
And the Man in the Moon and his precious light would, at last, be blotted out.  
Jack Frost would return. The boy was still filled with all of his self-righteous indignation and assurance that Elsa was still innocent, still pure - so yes, Jack would come back. It would be easy to start with the youngest Guardian. Pitch could destroy him, of course, but it would be so much more amusing if he could somehow coerce Elsa to duel with Jack. It would be poetic, Pitch mused, to let the first Guardian fall by being murdered by his beloved.   
It was beautiful, almost - frost destroyed by ice.  
With another tragedy to Elsa's name, the desire to escape her misery and pain would drive her further into the darkness. With Pitch as her guide, the elimination of the other Guardians would be laughably easy, and the first step to his domination would be complete.  
It was tempting. Oh, so tempting.  
And yet...  
Pitch knew Elsa's heart. Despite her every attempt to shut Jack out, Pitch knew Elsa still cared. Unless Jack betrayed her or intentionally hurt her, Elsa would still cling to him. To get her to a position where she would voluntarily fight Jack would be difficult. It was possible, of course, and Pitch knew he could, but...  
But that would hurt Elsa.  
Pitch knew that Elsa's greatest fear was to hurt those she loved. It was a fear that he, too, once shared.  
Once, Pitch thought bitterly. But no longer.  
A small, fragile part of him whispered that Elsa would understand. More than anyone, more than any person in the world, Elsa would understand. Two people, he mused, broken by their own mistakes and desperation, left to mourn in the darkness, nursing fading memories and all that remained of their previous lives...  
He understood her pain and the need to be free of it. And she... she understood him, far better than she knew.  
Jack had asked why Elsa couldn't stay with him, why she left. 'I can't tell you,' she'd said. Jack, the fool that he was, probably thought that Pitch had done something to make her withhold the information. Threatened her, perhaps, or cast a spell over her. The truth could not have been more different.  
You do not deserve her, Jack Frost, Pitch thought, turning back to look at the sleeping girl. You, who do not understand the delicate defense that Elsa wove. You, who did not see that she was protecting you from her pain, and shielding you from your injury. Her reluctance to explain is a promise not to darken your world with her crimes, so you will not have to share her guilt.  
She could not show her devotion more than by holding back the truth.  
"And truth," Pitch murmured softly, clenching one hand, "only has the power to destroy."  
But Elsa was naive. She had been too merciful, letting Jack free. He will not love you once he knows what you've done, Pitch thought, turning away from Elsa. He will hate you. Despise you. And you - you will blame yourself. Isn't his hatred what you deserve? After all you've done? After the ruin you've wrought?   
Or worse - what if he says he forgives you? What if he says he can help you change, be better - like your sister told you once, long ago? What if you can't take his kindness and the memories, so your emotions surge out of control, your powers reacting -  
Pitch stopped in mid-step. "Oh yes," he gasped, a long smile breaking across his face. What if an accident should befall the reckless Jack Frost? The other Guardians would be forced to seek retribution, and in defending yourself, you would kill them, too. All of them dead, over a simple misunderstanding.  
"And all that would be left is you," he whispered, "and me."  
It was perfect. Utterly perfect.  
"Ice and dark," he breathed. "And the world, Elsa - the entire world will be ours."


	10. In Shadow - Part One

Elsa felt the air change a few moments before Pitch did. The wind stirred around her, bringing a breath of winter air that was both comforting and familiar, even as it chilled her blood. The rising wind could only mean one thing.  
"Jack," she whispered.  
The shadows flickered and elongated as Pitch stepped up behind her. "I thought he would be back," the Bogeyman murmured. "It seems he didn't believe you when you told him not to return."  
"No," Elsa agreed. "No, he didn't."  
"Then I leave this to you," he said. She felt his hand against the small of her back - a gentle touch, urging her forward.  
She looked over her shoulder at him. "He won't be swayed, Pitch. I know him. Jack won't give up again."  
He gave a slow feline blink, the slightest hint of a smile curving his lips. "Perhaps not."  
She stared at him. "But... then - "  
"Should you need reinforcement, I'll be there."  
"But - " she began again, then winced as a huge gust barreled over her, knocking her braid into her face. When she looked up, Pitch had vanished into the darkness, leaving her alone in the enormous cavern.  
No - not alone.  
She turned as Jack swooped through the crack in the ceiling. You can do this, she told herself silently as she straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. It's for his own good, after all. "Jack," she said, and was gratified by how authoritative her voice sounded. "What are you doing here?"

Jack's heart sank a little when he heard the disapproval in her voice. Not exactly how I wanted this to start, he thought, straightening. But then, it would have been too much to expect her to welcome me back.  
The wind slowly died and Elsa's long train wilted without it, falling elegantly behind her like she was the martyr bride in some story. Jack tried to keep the rueful smile from his face, but didn't quite succeed. She's as beautiful as ever. "Hey Elsa," Jack said, pushing back his hood. "It's been a few days..." He paused a beat, then added jokingly, weakly, "miss me yet?"  
She looked at him for a long moment, like she couldn't decide whether he was being serious or not.   
"Y'know, because you could leave with me whenever you want," he continued. "I have North's snow globe, so we could go anywhere. The Tooth Palace, for example."  
"The Tooth Palace?" she echoed skeptically.  
"Yeah, to see the Tooth Fairy."  
Elsa sighed, a weary, tired sound. "Jack... "  
I knew I was pushing my luck. He held up his hands before she could start. "Okay, sorry, that was my fault. Nevermind what I just said. I only... " He sighed. "Look. I came back for several reasons - "  
"Which are?" she asked promptly, cutting him off.  
Jack paused again. His eyes bore into hers, and for a small moment - just the slightest second - Jack thought he saw emotion flicker in Elsa's eyes. "I didn't come here to fight you," he said.  
She blinked, then recoiled a little. "I didn't think you did."  
"So don't treat me like you expect me to."  
Elsa tensed. "Then how, Jack? You come back after I tell you to stay away, after I tell you that it's better this way - "  
"See, that's what I don't understand," Jack broke in. "Who is this better for - you or me? I don't think that us being apart - it doesn't help anything."  
She turned away.   
"I'm worried about you, Elsa," he called, and he saw her stiffen. "You're not acting like yourself."  
"How would you even know what that is, Jack?" she asked, turning to face him. "You don't know me - not really. Maybe this is who I am."  
Jack looked at her. "Did you lie to me when we first met?"  
She didn't answer.  
"No," he supplied for her. "No, you didn't. Just like you aren't really a withdrawn, cold, and miserable person. You may see yourself that way, but you aren't, Elsa. I know you aren't."  
Elsa was quiet for a long while. She clasped and unclasped her hands, her blue eyes lowered to the floor. "I don't understand," she said eventually. "Why do you insist on saying these things? How much clearer can I be - "  
"Because it's true. You only see yourself that way, and that's the problem." Jack smiled a little, wishing she would meet his eyes. "Elsa... I read that story about you - The Snow Queen. Remember? The one Jamie had."  
Elsa nodded jerkily. "Three kisses, and you were dead."  
"Heh, yeah. Pretty sure that was a product of the author's imagination." Jack shrugged. He was relieved that Elsa was letting him have this conversation. Part of him had expected that she would kick him out as soon as he arrived - or worse, sic Pitch on him - without allowing him the chance to explain. So far so good, he reassured himself silently as he tapped his fingers against the shaft of his staff. "But actually," he continued casually, "I wanted to talk about the story itself. It's about two friends, a boy and a girl, and one day the boy runs off with the Snow Queen. The whole story is about the girl trying to get her friend back."  
She lifted her gaze, finally, and fixed him with a hard look. "What is your point, Jack?"  
"The thing is," Jack went on patiently, trying to ignore Elsa's expression, "that the guy and the Snow Queen had the same problem: they had some sort of magical glass fragment stuck in their eyes - "  
"I don't understand."  
He blew out all his breath. "Me neither, and I read the story three times. But here's the thing: because of the glass, all they could see when they looked around were the terrible parts of their lives and the world. That's all. They couldn't be cheered up, because they couldn't see anything to be happy about."  
Elsa pressed her lips together. "Let me see if I can get this straight, Jack - you think I have glass in my eyes?"  
"No no, of course not. Glass, no. But metaphorically - yeah. All you see are the negative things. Ever since I saw you again in your tower, that's all you've been like."  
She was quiet for a few moments. "So you think I'm like the boy in the story, and I ran away to be with someone else who shares my negativity?"  
That was exactly what Jack thought, but he didn't say it out loud. "The reason the boy went with the Snow Queen in the first place was because he felt a familiarity with her. They both had the same problem, and they understood each other. And for you, I guess... " He swallowed, trying to keep his face clear of emotion. "... I guess that's Pitch Black."  
Elsa didn't reply - but then, she didn't really need to.  
Thought as much, Jack told himself, ignoring the dread that weighed like a stone in his stomach. "The problem was," he said carefully, "that the ice was slowly killing the boy - he just didn't know it. He wasn't invulnerable to the ice, like the Snow Queen was, so she didn't notice either."  
"That's impossible, Jack. She would have noticed something like that."  
"Not if she was happy that the boy was with her - not if she was so concerned with her victory and what she wanted that she didn't even care about the boy." Jack struggled to hold Elsa's gaze, especially when she glared at him so fiercely. "And it will kill you, Elsa. Being so long without the light... it'll change you, warp your soul."  
Elsa turned away. "Maybe that's what I deserve."  
"Say that again," Jack challenged, and Elsa looked up at him, clearly startled by the tone in his voice.  
"It's what I deserve. Jack, you don't understand - "  
"I would if you just told me!" Jack cried, his voice echoing through the shadowy passages. Elsa winced at his volume, but Jack ignored it. "Elsa, for once just be honest with me! You say that Pitch helps you, but I can't help but think that he's the reason you shy away from me, and that he's the one stopping you from telling me the truth."  
"I told you, that isn't the reason!"  
"Then why?" Jack pressed a hand against his chest. "Why are you shutting me out? Why are you hiding here, away from the world?"  
Elsa's mouth snapped closed. Her face went even paler, if that was possible. "I'm not... " she gasped. "I'm not, that isn't what I... "  
"That's not what you're doing?" he repeated. "That's exactly what you're doing! Elsa, I don't under - !"  
Jack broke off in mid-sentence, his words slowly fading into silence. He rubbed his face and turned half-away from her, squeezing his eyes shut as he let out a slow sigh. "Maybe it's me," he said quietly. "Maybe I offended you somehow."  
"Jack... " Her voice sounded strangled.  
"If it was, then I'm sorry - sorrier than you'll ever know. I mean, what did I ever do to you, Elsa, to make you hate me so much?" He twisted around to look at her.  
But Elsa had gone very still. Her eyes were wide and, as Jack watched, they slowly began to fill with tears. Dammit, Jack thought. It was a legitimate question, wasn't it? But I guess I pushed too far. I shouldn't have said those things. Now she'll think I'm more of an ass than ever. He swallowed and took a tentative step forward. "Elsa - geez, I'm - "  
He broke off when Elsa suddenly shut her eyes, twin tears streaking down her face. Aw man, Jack groaned inwardly, I'm the biggest jerk on the planet. I should have stopped earlier when I was talking about the story. No, even that part wasn't going well. Why didn't North tell me my plan sucked?  
I'm the biggest jerk ever.  
"Elsa," he began again, "Elsa, I'm - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did. I just - Elsa, I didn't mean - "  
She turned her head to the side to delicately brush away her tears. "You're right, Jack," she said softly.  
Jack shook his head. "No, really. What I said was stupid - "  
"No," she said, looking up at him. "You were right. You... you both were."  
Both? Jack wondered.  
A raspy voice drawled out from somewhere in the darkness to Jack's right, the words bouncing off the walls. "For a Guardian who seems obsessed with protecting people from the darkness, you certainly have an odd way of going about it."  
Jack whirled around to face him. "Pitch Black!" He shouted. "Come out into the light where I can see you!"  
"Light?" Pitch chuckled. "A turn of phrase, I hope. The only thing down here is darkness."  
Jack shook his head, annoyed. "Pitch, you come out now," he ordered, flipping his staff over in his hand. "Or so help me - "  
"You'll what?" The Bogeyman materialized behind him, and Jack started, despite himself. "Give me a thorough talking-to? Spare me."  
Jack skipped back by Elsa, placing himself firmly in front of her. "The last time I was here, I asked you what you did to Elsa. You said - you swore to me - that you had done nothing, but you lied!"  
"I still haven't done anything," Pitch said, blinking at him in that infuriatingly lazy way of his. "Well... anything much."  
Jack squeezed his staff until his knuckles turned white. Just give me an excuse to freeze that smirk off your face. "Yeah?" he asked. "So does that include kidnapping Elsa?"  
"He didn't, Jack." Elsa's voice was soft behind him.  
"Oh, she came quite willingly," Pitch said, shrugging. "Unless your definition of kidnapped means taken without your permission."  
Jack growled. "Elsa was never my prisoner! She was always free to go!"  
"Then why did she leave when I gave her the chance? Why stay here, even when you came back for her?"  
"She said it was for my good - "  
"Then perhaps you should follow her advice once and for all. Guardians are so concerned about what's right and good, after all - "  
"Not this time," Jack said, his voice deadly quiet.  
Pitch closed his mouth. He gave Jack a piercing, calculating look. That's right, Jack told him silently. You went too far when you took Elsa. I'm here to fight, Pitch, even if it is outside of North's and Bunny's wishes. Even if it is reckless and stupid, I'll do it.  
Because I'm sick of this - sick of Elsa's misery and your arrogant taunts. I want to end it, no matter the risk.  
Jack gave the Bogeyman his best glower in return. And I know exactly how to accomplish that.  
"Is that so?" Pitch finally asked.  
Elsa stepped forward, her heels clicking against the concrete. "No," she began, "Jack, this isn't the way - "  
Pitch waved his hand for silence. "Oh, I think it is," he said, never once taking his eyes off Jack. "So what's your plan? You wouldn't come here without a plan - not if you really wanted to challenge me."  
"Maybe," Jack said evasively. He turned to the side so he could look at Elsa and Pitch at the same time. "I just wanted to say that I know why Elsa stays with you."  
"And why is that, Jack?" Pitch murmured, lifting one eyebrow.  
"Because I know the kind of person that Elsa is," Jack said, turning his full attention on her. "She's kind and she's caring and selfless."  
Elsa met his gaze, her eyebrows scrunching together in worry.  
"But she's also empathetic, and in this case, it's leading to her undoing." Jack glanced at Pitch. "Once, your darkness overwhelmed her and scared her, so she ran. But now she pities you. She's seen the sorrow deep in your heart - sorrow you have let her glimpse - and so she came with you. To be with you. Because she feels sorry for you."  
All the while when Jack was speaking, Pitch's eyes had narrowed until they were mere slits of gold in his ashy face. Now he clenched his hands into fists at his side. "I," he spat, "accept no one's pity."  
"Maybe not, but you keep her here anyway," Jack said. "And we both know why: Elsa is beautiful, and she's pure - "  
Elsa made a soft sound, and Jack looked at her. She was staring at him with a pained look on her face, one hand curled over her heart. Jack glanced back at Pitch. "She is," he said, "and you know it. There is so much darkness and evil in your past, but to you she's like a light. As if by being with her, she could erase what you have done. Redemption, forgiveness - she would give that to you. She could make you forget the crimes you've committed - "  
"Enough." Pitch's voice was very soft. He fixed Jack with an expression that was emotionless, reptilian, and so very dangerous. He slowly straightened, raising his chin, and Jack tensed. "So. You know," he stated. "How did you find out?"  
"I - "  
"Did St. North tell you?"  
"He did." From the corner of his eye, Jack could see Elsa glancing back and forth between them. He tipped his head in her direction. "Does Elsa know? Have you told her the truth about you - ?"  
"How dare you!" Fury sparked in the Bogeyman's eyes and he pulled himself straighter, the shadows twisting and writhing around him. The caverns darkened to an eerie inky black, the very air falling still under the weight of his power. "You, who have been gifted by the Man in the Moon - you, who profess to act in his name - how dare you speak to me as if you know my mind, as if you are privy to the secrets I hold. Your arrogance and patronizing distain mark you as no different from any of the other self-righteous Guardians. You stand before me, confident in all your sympathy and humble words, thinking I will bend to your will because you know all about my blood-drenched sins and unspeakable villainy. You, Jack Frost, you think you know everything! Well, I have news for you: you do not."  
Jack took a few steps back, his chest heaving. He had never seen Pitch like this before - so commanding, so powerful and bitter - and to be honest, it scared him. This was the real Bogeyman that haunted the dreams to children. This was the being worthy of the title The Nightmare King.  
And I don't stand a chance against him.  
He shot a quick glance at Elsa. She was biting her lip, her eyes wide as they stared up at Pitch. At least she isn't totally at ease with Pitch either, he thought.  
"I wasn't trying to say I know everything," he shouted up to the Bogeyman. "I'm the youngest out of everyone, so I know I'm not - I don't know everything."  
"But you pretend it so well: a trait that must be born in all of his appointed Guardians," Pitch snarled. "Allow me to set the record straight once and for all: our Snow Queen is not as guiltless as you have chosen to believe. Her virtues, which you so love to praise, are as convincing as they are a sham."  
"Pitch, no!" Snowflakes began to swirl around Elsa, as if she was the center of an icy tornado. She pushed past Jack to stand before Pitch, her arms outstretched beseechingly. "You can't tell him! Please!"  
A caustic smile cut across his face. "Can't I?" he questioned her, his eyes sliding over to look at Jack, the glance sharp as knives. "He deserves to know what you didn't trust him enough to explain."  
"No!" Elsa spun around, the snowflakes swirling faster and faster. "No, Jack, that wasn't the reason!"  
"Of course it was," he purred, "which was why she never told you anything, no matter how often you asked."  
Jack gritted his teeth. Pitch's taunts were gnawing at him, making his patience fray. "Stop playing around - "  
"Ah, but she did tell you something," Pitch interrupted, "something so small and unimportant that you wouldn't bother to be suspicious about it... "  
Pitch paused. Jack waited impatiently, his hand iron-tight around his staff. Elsa was frozen in mid-motion, her hand reaching out as if to clutch Pitch's arm. The Bogeyman looked from Elsa to Jack, his smile turning into a smirk. He leaned forward, like he was disclosing a secret. "Her sister," he whispered. "Anna."  
Elsa cried out, as if the words had injured her. Pitch was watching Jack carefully, waiting for a reaction, but Jack didn't understand what he was supposed to be reacting to. "Uhh," he began.  
Pitch glanced at Elsa. "Perhaps the reason you didn't tell him was because he was too stupid to wonder about her."  
"Wonder what?" Jack asked hotly. He was sick and tired of Pitch treating him like he was a child. He wished the Bogeyman would tell him what was going on, already - or that Elsa would. But she was just gazing at him, a horrified look on her face. Jack directed his words to her anyway. "Elsa, your sister died long ago - of course you would still be sad about that, but - "  
"Would she?" Pitch interrupted. "Anna was her sister, yes, but why would it still torture her to hear her sister's name?"  
Elsa's voice was soft - the merest breath of air. "Pitch. Stop. Please."  
Jack slowly looked from Elsa to Pitch. "Why?" he asked slowly.  
"Why would she shy away from Jamie's sister?" Pitch asked musingly, striding toward Jack. "Why would she wish to erase her memories? Why would she flee from you, the one who still believes there is still good in her? Why would she be so afraid of hurting you? Why, Jack Frost?"  
A deep feeling of uneasiness began to grow in Jack's stomach, filling him with sick dread. He almost didn't want to ask, but he was close, so close... "Why?"  
"No!" Elsa yelled. She desperately launched herself at Pitch, but he batted her away. "No! You promised! Pitch, you told me you would never - "  
"She murdered her own sister!" Pitch roared.  
Elsa cried out again, this time as a muffled sob. She collapsed to her knees. The whirling snow abruptly spun away, falling lifelessly to the ground. Pitch grinned, but for Jack, everything suddenly...  
Shattered.  
No, maybe that was the sound of his hopes falling to pieces around him.  
He can't be telling the truth, Jack thought, looking past the Bogeyman to Elsa. He can't be. It's not... it isn't true...  
But then Elsa looked up at him, and he saw the glint of tears. He saw the terrible sadness in her eyes, just as he had so many times before, and now he knew the real cause.  
Elsa...  
"Jack," she gasped, and her voice shook. "Jack, I... I didn't want to tell you... I didn't... didn't know how... "  
It all made sense. Horrible, twisted sense. That time with Jamie and Sophie - her reluctance to meet the other Guardians - all those times she had assured him that she couldn't be redeemed - leaving him for Pitch -   
She killed her sister.  
"I'm sorry." Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, more tears streaking down her cheeks. "I'm so... every day I wish... I wish it was different, I wish I hadn't... " Emotion choked off her words and she shook her head.  
No, Jack thought slowly. No, this can't be right. Maybe Elsa did... kill... her sister, but she cried for her every day. She's still crying for her.  
This can't be the whole story. He looked from Elsa to Pitch, who was towering above them. Maybe it's like Pitch, the way he was before - a general, a great man destroyed by the darkness all because of his love for his daughter. So maybe there's a catch to why Elsa killed her sister. It was an accident, maybe, or she was tricked into it -   
That's got to be how it was. Elsa wouldn't... she couldn't kill someone intentionally.  
She couldn't.  
"That can't be all," Jack said. "You're holding back something, aren't you, Pitch? Were you there when it happened? Did you force Elsa to - "  
"Of course not. Give her a little credit." Pitch looked down at Elsa. The terrible edge of his wrath had gone, leaving the Bogeyman in good spirits once again. But he wasn't his normal shadowy self; his eyes still burned with contempt and the darkness came off him in subtle waves, dominant and oppressive. "You could easily forgive her if it was just the one time. But it wasn't."  
Elsa jerked, her shoulders hunching up as her head dropped.  
"No," Pitch murmured. "She also snuffed out the life of the last troll. That's called genocide, I believe."  
"I had to," Elsa whispered.  
"Had to, or wanted to?" he asked, an idle smile playing about his lips.  
She shuddered.  
"No." Jack swung out his staff in a broad arc. "That isn't all. That can't be all. There has to be a reason!"  
"Does there?" Pitch asked, turning his terrible gaze to Jack. "Or do you hope to find one because you just realized you didn't know our Snow Queen as well as you thought you did?"  
"There is one!" he insisted. "Elsa - "  
"She cannot be saved by you, Jack Frost." His raspy voice held a certain sharpness. "Your care for her weakens your judgment. In the eyes of the other Guardians, she is as much to blame as I am."  
"No," Jack said, his voice growing stronger as his confidence took over. "Elsa did not embrace the evil inside her. The tragedies in her past... I don't know the real reason behind them, but I have never seen her act on the malevolent tendencies you claim she has. Her injuries still give her too much pain, despite her attempts to bury them."  
"You know nothing," Pitch said dismissively. "Elsa and I are more alike than you could imagine."  
"And that's where you're wrong, because I can imagine." He took a step forward, lowering his voice gravely. "You don't have to keep doing this. Blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault, Pitch. Just like it wasn't hers."  
Elsa slowly looked up. Her cheeks were pale in the dim light, but her face - her eyes were brightening, her gaze turning soft. The expression that was blooming on her face could only be described as hope.  
Jack was so absorbed by the changes coming over Elsa - good changes, he told himself, his own heart lifting in response to her glance - that he didn't see Pitch move until it was almost too late. There was a blur of black and Jack raised his staff, hissing as the impact rattled his teeth. "The hell?" he snapped, but it came out more as a surprised huff.  
"This is why I hate the Guardians," Pitch said, eyes narrowing as he pressed the blade of his scythe against Jack's staff. "You're all such hypocrites."  
Jack winced as the razor-thin edge of Pitch's scythe cut into the wood grain of his staff. He threw himself backward, somersaulting to the side as the scythe whistled above his head. He sprang to his feet, and held out his free hand in a halt motion. "Whoa," he said, "now hang on - "  
"You presume to know everything, but you're wrong. You're wrong about Elsa, and you're wrong about me!" Pitch darted forward, faster than Jack could see. The Guardian managed to dodge the thrust, barely. "It is the Man in the Moon who calls me an enemy. What makes you think he would be so lenient to forgive her?"  
"I'm - " Jack broke off to flip to the side. The head of the scythe buried itself in the ground where he'd been standing a second before, making the ground shake. "I would defend her. I would help her."  
"There is no viable defense in his eyes to those lost in shadow," Pitch said darkly. He jerked his weapon free with a flick of his wrist and twirled it above his head. The blade shot down, cleaving the air with its black after-image.  
Jack rolled closer and leapt to his knees, catching the shaft with his staff. "I dunno about that," he replied, words strained with the effort of keeping the scythe held at bay. Damn, but Pitch was strong. "I'm gonna try. I'm... the one who's pure of heart."  
Pitch scowled. "What?"  
"In the story. The one who saved the boy from the Snow Queen..." He gasped for breath between clenched teeth. His arms were beginning to shake. "... it was someone who was pure of heart."  
"Really?" Pitch leaned on his scythe. Jack suppressed a groan. "And that's you, I take it?"  
"Well... it certainly isn't you." With a grunt he dropped one hand. Caught off-balance, the scythe skittered to the side and gouged the cement. Pitch picked himself up immediately, but Jack was already moving. Frost arched up out of the end of his staff and Pitch leapt back, his face contorting. Ice had coated the last three fingers of his right hand. The Bogeyman shook his hand deftly, as if flicking off water, and the ice began to crack. He met Jack's eyes and glared, promising fight he wouldn't forget.  
Jack smiled grimly. Despite his pacifistic words, he still wanted the fight to occur. It's been a long time in coming, he thought, tightening his hold on his staff, but this has to happen once and for all.   
And I'm going to do my best to end it.  
He moved in the same instant Pitch did, and the rhythm of the battle started again.


	11. In Shadow - Part Two

Elsa watched them fight, her hand fisted in the delicate weave of her dress directly over her heart. Anxiety made the current of her power hum beneath her skin, begging to be freed. she had called for Pitch and Jack to stop but they ignored her, flying back and forth in a flurry of lunges and parries that always kept the other in motion. The duel was their only focus, and Elsa knew that they wouldn't hear her even if she screamed until her voice died.  
Elsa cringed as Pitch deftly twisted his scythe into a sharp uppercut, nearly slicing Jack in two. She hadn't seen Pitch fight since his brief battle against Santa Claus, but it was clear that his skills had lessened only marginally over time. The ease with which he wielded his long weapon still stunned her, and his silent, terrifying speed was dizzying. His steps were acrobatic, his attacks lithe and fluid - he is a master fighter, Elsa thought. He has no equal.  
And Jack...  
Jack ducked just a second too late, and a lock of silver hair fluttered to the ground. He swore and spun his staff, deflecting a thrust that turned out to be a feint. He swore again and rolled away, spraying frost. Pitch hissed his annoyance but launched into another strike, forcing Jack to dodge yet again.  
Jack... Elsa swallowed hard, her snowflakes spinning around her. Jack is losing.  
When the battle began, Elsa assumed Jack had been caught off-guard by Pitch's assault; his reactions had been slow, his own counter-attacks clumsy. There was passion in his eyes and anger in his retaliation, but it was painfully clear that he had not been trained for combat, like Pitch had.  
And now Jack's strength was waning. His evasions and aggressive charges had stopped altogether. He didn't have time to act offensively; where Pitch seemed a constant streak of motion, Jack seemed to be doing everything in his power to simply defend himself. Any moment, Elsa thought, holding her breath, and Jack could be -   
Suddenly he gasped, spinning out of the way. A long thin scratch appeared on his cheek, colored by a thin line of red. His eyes narrowed at Pitch but had to dodge as the Bogeyman flew toward him, the scythe in his hands a simple blur of color. Jack twisted, trying to avoid it, but Elsa could see that he was moving too slow -   
Jack cried out. He skipped back, one hand clenching over his arm. Between his fingers, Elsa could see spots of scarlet bleeding through his torn sleeve. "Jack!" she cried.  
He turned to look at her, his face pinched in pain. His eyes met hers for a long moment. Elsa waited for him to flash his usual reassuring smile, but...  
It didn't come. Jack turned back to face the Bogeyman and Elsa realized what Jack must have been silently trying to convey. He thinks he's going to die. Her gaze darted to Pitch. He was smiling. And Pitch - Pitch is going to kill him.  
Jack straightened, dropping his hand from his wound. The blue fabric was stained red. Pitch's smile stretched wider.  
"No!" Elsa screamed, but the words came too late - Jack threw himself at Pitch, who met him with a heavy crash of scythe against staff.  
I can't watch this happen. I can't let Jack die - I can't let someone I love be hurt because of me! Elsa pulled up the corner of her skirts and sprinted toward them, ice screaming through her veins. It was suicidal to try and intervene in Pitch's blindingly fast attacks, but Elsa had no choice. Pitch won't hurt me. He won't. But I have to stop him from taking this too far!  
Pitch flipped the scythe over in his hand, hitting Jack solidly in the stomach with the end of his shaft. Jack staggered and fell to his knees. Pitch knocked Jack's staff out of his already slack hands and spun around, raising his scythe for a final strike -   
Elsa leapt between them, her arms outstretched. "Pitch, no!" she cried. The scythe froze halfway to her neck. "You can't do this! Not to him!"  
"He's a Guardian," Pitch snarled.  
"He was just doing what he thought was right! He was just trying to rescue me." Like Anna, she thought, turning to look at Jack. He was hunched on the ground, his right arm hanging limply at his side. "He wanted to protect me," she whispered.  
Jack's words came back to her: "Why do you shut me out? Why do you shut the whole world out? What did I ever do to you?"  
Like Anna said once, so long ago.  
I'm sorry, she told him silently. I didn't want any of this to happen. Forgive me, Jack.  
I'm sorry.  
Jack looked up at her, his blue eyes barely visible between the messy strands of his silver hair.  
"No one should ever be blamed for doing what they thought was right," she murmured, reaching out to him.  
Suddenly Jack's attention shifted from her face to something over her shoulder. "No!" he yelled. "Elsa - !"  
Long ash-colored fingers pressed against the back of Elsa's hand. The crackling pain of her power spiked, momentarily resisting the heavy numbness of shadows that intertwined with her ice. Then they fused and erupted from her palm, a needle-thin sword that flew into Jack's chest. Pitch stepped away and Jack slumped to his side, his eyes flickering closed.  
"And I," Pitch said calmly, "did what I thought was right."  
Elsa opened her mouth, but no sound came. She stared at Jack, stared at the dark stain in his chest where her ice had pierced him, in his heart.  
His heart.  
Like Anna.  
The scream ripped out of her then, agonized and heart-wrenching. She buried her face in her hands, but she could still see Jack in her mind, his eyes shut now forever -   
I've killed him. I've killed him and it's all my fault.  
Just like Anna.  
It's all my fault.  
She felt Pitch's hands on her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace, but she wrenched out of his grasp. "No! Don't touch me!"  
His voice was low. "Elsa - "  
She whirled around to face him. "Pitch, how could you -!" Then her throat closed on her and she swallowed hard. Tears began to prick at her eyes and she brushed at her cheeks, though no new tears had fallen yet.  
Pitch looked at her for a long moment. "He would have turned you against yourself, in the end," he said slowly. "I'm sorry it happened this way, but it's for the best."  
"For the best?" she echoed helplessly. "But Jack is... "  
Dead. Dead, and I killed him.  
Pitch spread out his hands. "He was a Guardian, Elsa, like all the rest - "  
"No he wasn't! He said he understood me! He said he understood you!"  
His eyes darkened. "Regardless - "  
"Jack wasn't a threat!" she cried.  
"Yes he was," Pitch said, so firmly and so forcefully that Elsa took a step backwards.  
Jack was only trying to help, Elsa thought. Why can't Pitch see that? Why can't he understand that Jack isn't the same as the other Guardians? He never deserved Pitch's hatred...  
Hatred. Hatred that Pitch has been harboring from the very beginning.  
Elsa remembered the many tirades and rants, and all of Pitch's terrible vows to get rid of the Guardians once and for all. She knew how much he despised them - hadn't he nearly killed Santa Claus before her eyes, long ago?  
And now she had helped him kill Jack.  
Elsa's eyes narrowed. Was that why Pitch had fought Jack? Not out of anger or injustice, but because this was what he had wanted all along? Because it was too convenient a moment to let pass without getting what he wanted?  
Elsa's hands curled into fists. "Please tell me," she said, trying to keep her voice level, "that Jack didn't die because you hated the Guardians."  
His expression was inscrutable. "Elsa - "  
"Please tell me," she said, her voice trembling, "that you didn't kill Jack as the first step in your plan to get rid of the Guardians."  
Something flickered in his eyes. "Elsa - "  
"Please tell me," she said, her voice shaking from fear or anger, she didn't know which, "that you did not use me to help you begin your campaign to bring the world under your control."  
"Elsa." He looked at her, then. There was something on the edge of his expression - something wild, almost ghostly - and it chilled her. "I have never lied to you about who I am."  
She clenched her teeth. Her power crackled within her at the spike of her fury.  
"You're right," he admitted slowly. "You're right about many things. But the reason you give was not... the only one."  
Elsa screamed and flung out her arm. Shards of ice shot out, radiating outward in an arrowhead formation. Pitch leapt lithely out of the way, but Elsa wasn't finished. Knives of ice flew from her hands, stabbing into the rock wall just moments behind Pitch.  
"Elsa!" he shouted. "You aren't just a pawn! You're more that than!"  
"You manipulated me!" She brought her hands down in a diagonal slicing motion. Discs of frost as reflective as mirrors burst out, forcing Pitch to retreat into the shadows.   
His voice called out to her. "Just think for a moment - "  
"I'm tired of thinking!" She flicked her wrists and pulled upward, like she was dragging a heavy weight. A wall of solid ice burst from the ground, cutting her off from Pitch.  
"I'm tired of not knowing what to do," she added softly, staring into her reflection in the ice.  
Jack was sprawled exactly where he had fallen, one arm outstretched, as if reaching for her. Elsa looked at him, her throat quickly closing at the sight. She went to his side and knelt down next to him. "Oh Jack," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."  
Elsa reached out to touch his chest, but then caught herself. The ice had vanished into his skin at the moment of impact, so there was only a small damp place in the center of his frost-laced hoodie. That was the only proof that she had actually struck him, and that Jack wasn't simply...  
Elsa's vision was getting blurry. She let the tears fall hot and thick down her cheeks as she moved instead to brush Jack's hair. His skin was as frigid as ever, but -   
Warmth. Elsa held her hand just over Jack's mouth, wondering if she had imagined it. But no - a soft breath of air, faint and weak, tickled at her palm.  
Jack was alive.  
"Jack!" Elsa pressed her hands against his cheeks. She had no idea how he had survived this long, or how much longer he could hold on. "Jack," she called, hoping he could hear her. "Jack, stay with me. Come back."  
It was like she wasn't even there. Jack's slow breaths continued, but it looked like he was dead. But he isn't, Elsa told herself fiercely, and he isn't going to die.  
"Jack," she said, "Jack, I'm here. It's - It's Elsa - "  
He didn't react - not even to her name.  
Elsa shut her eyes. "Wake up," she pleaded. Without thinking, she leaned down, almost close enough to press her lips against Jack's forehead -   
\- and then suddenly drew back.  
A story from her childhood returned to her - an old tale that Anna had loved from one of her favorite bedtime stories: that an act of true love could create miracles. True love could do anything and save anyone - even those who stood at the brink of death.  
"A true love's kiss," Elsa whispered. She stared down at Jack, the pale skin of his cheek the exact shade of her hands. She could kiss him, certainly, but... would it work?  
Do I love him? she wondered. I care for him, but... is that really the same as love?  
Once, long ago, she had accused Anna of not knowing what love really was. Now Elsa realized that she had been wrong. It's me. I'm the one who has no idea what love is. Hiding away from the world, doing my best not to hurt anyone... I was never given the chance to find out.  
You were right, Anna. I know nothing about love. She slowly pulled away from Jack.  
"So he isn't dead, after all."  
Elsa tensed. Pitch stepped out of the darkness, his golden eyes on Jack. "For so small a lad, he must be fighting so hard," he murmured. "But Elsa, surely you can see for yourself - he hasn't much time left."  
Elsa's throat constricted. She knew he was right, but that didn't make it any better. "Don't come a step closer," she warned.  
"I don't need to," he said simply, devastatingly.  
She felt the blood drain from her face. Because it's already too late.  
Elsa turned to Jack. She combed her hands through his short silver hair, watching as the strands slipped easily through her fingers. "Oh Jack," she whispered. She wished her powers could be used for healing or protection, instead of destruction. She wished she could revive him.  
Pitch let out a restless sigh. "Let me know when he breathes his last."  
Her head whipped around. "Pitch - "  
But he was already walking away. "You were the one who did this!" Elsa cried after him. "You should at least stay and watch him die!" Her voice cracked on the last word and she swallowed hard, the tears finally spilling down her face.  
"Why?" he asked, sounding amused. "Do you want me to gloat over him?"  
"You were the one who made him fight! You were the one who taunted him and ran him down! You were the one who used my powers to accomplish what you wanted!" Elsa knotted her hands in Jack's hair, pushing against the surge of power in her fingertips. She did not want to fight Pitch. Not ever, but especially not here and now.  
Pitch turned around to face her. "No," he said coldly, "it was your hand that dealt the final blow, not mine."  
Elsa knew it was true, but she couldn't stop herself from flinching in response. "But how could you?"  
"It had to be done."  
His matter-of-fact words revived her fierce anger. "It had to?" she demanded icily. "Because of your plans?"  
"Of course." His eyes moved from Elsa to Jack and back again. "But there were other reasons, you know."  
"Reasons?"   
"Yes. I'm sure you can think of a few."  
Elsa only narrowed her eyes, unsure how to even begin to decipher his words.  
Pitch frowned, still staring at Jack. "He's still holding on," he noted ponderously. His long scythe materialized in his hand. "I suppose I am out of practice in killing people - "  
Elsa dug her fingers into Jack's hoodie and heaved his head and torso onto her lap protectively. "Don't you even think about - "  
There was a dull thunk as something round and heavy rolled out of Jack's hoodie pouch. It was small, round, and reflective. What...? Elsa shot a quick glance at Pitch and saw his eyes widen. It must be -   
The snow globe.  
Pitch lunged for it, but Elsa was closer. She snatched it from the ground and held it against her chest. Pitch snarled, advancing on her. "Give it to me!"  
Elsa drew back. Where to go, where to go? Her mind was a roaring blank. The tower? The cave? My castle of ice? No, no, no -  
The Tooth Fairy. Jack had mentioned her before...  
"The Tooth Palace!" Elsa shouted.  
Pitch's face quickly changed from anger to surprise, but then light burst out around Elsa, blinding her. Elsa wound her fingers in Jack's hood and fumbled for his fallen staff, but she needn't have bothered - the portal opened up below her, and they both fell through the opening, leaving Pitch behind.  
Elsa's hair blew into her eyes and she gasped for breath. Abruptly the world bled into color again. Almost as soon as she was aware that she was hurtling through the sky, she crashed into the ground. She heard Jack tumble down beside her, but for a long moment Elsa lay there, sucking in air as the horizon gradually straightened again.  
When her dizziness began to fade and she felt as though she could sit up without falling over, she pulled herself to Jack's side. He had landed on his back, his body stretched spread-eagled on the ground. Elsa took his hand. It felt lifeless. She leaned over him and turned his head toward her. "Jack," she gasped, pressing her hand against his cheek. Her fingers looked almost pink against his skin. "Jack, we're at the Tooth Palace. I can find someone to help you."  
He was utterly still.  
"Jack." She brushed her hand over his mouth and waited. And waited.  
And waited.  
He isn't breathing - ! "Jack!" Elsa cried. She shook him and, wincing a little, she slapped his face. He didn't even flinch. "Jack, stay with me! Jack!"  
He didn't move. He didn't move, and it was like he was already -   
Ice crawled out underneath Elsa, radiating out along the mosaic floor. Thick frost crackled on Jack's blue hoodie, and Elsa quickly pulled herself back. She felt the air temperature plummet as snowflakes began their tense, erratic dance around her. Elsa looked around wildly - at the golden spires, the beautiful scrollwork along the towers that winked and sparkled like jewels, and the deep blue sky beyond - but could see no one. There was no one in sight, just a few little birds that chirped to each other from high above.  
"Help me," Elsa gasped, willing them to hear her and understand. "Help... "  
She sucked in her breath and cried, "somebody please help! Tooth Fairy, if you're here, I - Jack needs your help!"  
The birds twittered furiously. All of them darted away but one, who fluttered down to her. Elsa took a step back, closer to Jack, wary of the long thin beak that the bird had. The bird darted down to Jack and then up to Elsa, squeaking anxiously.  
"You're not a... " Elsa trailed off, amazed despite herself. It wasn't a bird at all, but a tiny girl covered in feathers. "What are you?"  
The girl shook her head impatiently. She pointed her beak at Jack and then at Elsa, chittering again in high tones. She blinked her wide iridescent eyes expectantly, and Elsa grimaced. "I'm sorry," she said, "but I don't understand. My friend needs help, and I'm looking for - "  
A shadow passed overhead. Pitch, Elsa thought and she shrank back, standing defensively before Jack's prone body. But then the shadow landed in a crouch before her, and it wasn't Pitch at all - it was a woman, covered in feathers of deep green and rich blue that shone in the light. She stood quickly, and she moved with all the confidence and majesty of a monarch in her own realm. She glanced at Jack, worry crinkling her beautiful face. "Jack, she murmured, hurrying forward.  
Elsa quickly stepped back to give her space, but the woman hardly noticed; she was pressing her fingers under Jack's jaw and pulling his sleeve up to clasp his wrist. "What happened to him?" she asked.  
Elsa cringed. "He fought Pitch," she said, voice cracking. "And I... I struck him."  
"You did?" The woman - the Tooth Fairy, Elsa thought - turned to look back at her incredulously.  
It was an accident, Elsa wanted to say. I was trying to stop the fight, but Pitch used me. I didn't want to hurt Jack - but the excuses didn't mean anything. It was an accident that killed Anna, but it was still Elsa who had injured her in the first place. And it will be my fault again if Jack dies.  
"Yes," Elsa whispered.  
The Tooth Fairy turned her attention back to Jack, then to the small collection of fairy girls that had gathered around her. "Get a bed ready," she ordered. "Open up the skylights in the ceiling so that we can see the moon. Get the one-line communication going so I can talk to North - I want him to know what's happened as soon as possible. If we work fast, we'll be able to save Jack."  
The fairies raced away to do as she asked. The Tooth Fairy slowly stood and looked at Elsa. Her crystalline lavender eyes pierced Elsa as she said, "there's darkness in him, but there's also ice - ice that isn't his own, and it's destroying him." She crossed her arms, glaring. "Who are you?"  
Elsa swallowed hard. Part of her didn't know how to answer the question. Who was she now? She had once been a daughter and a sister. She had once been the Queen of Arendelle, cursed with powers that had destroyed her country. Then she became an apprentice in shadow, then a rebel, then an amnesiac. Then she turned into a maiden in distress, rescued and befriended by a boy who cared for her unconditionally. She went back to the comfort of darkness to escape her pain, which only ignited a battle that had turned her, once again, into a weapon.  
Now she was here, at the mercy of her mentor-turned-confidant's worst enemy. Names didn't matter - not after all she had done. Not after all the transformations she had gone through.  
But there was one thing that had never changed.  
She took a slow breath. "I'm... the Snow Queen."  
Something in the Tooth Fairy's expression softened. "Elsa," she murmured, nodding. She sighed. "That's what I was afraid of."


	12. Movement in Blue

Elsa looked at the Tooth Fairy in surprise. "How do you... how do you know my name?"  
The corner of her mouth quirked up, almost pityingly. "Jack told us about you."  
"All of you?" she asked, anxiety creeping uncomfortably in her voice. "He told all of the... Guardians?"  
"Of course. Just a couple weeks ago we were all together, and he said he knew you."  
"We've known each other for a long time," Elsa agreed quietly.  
"That's what he told North." The Tooth Fairy's half-smile faded and she shrugged. "That's why he said you would never hurt him."  
Elsa's mouth fell open, stricken.  
The Tooth Fairy winced at the look on Elsa's face. She pressed the fingers of one hand into her temple, where her line of bright feathers began. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I shouldn't have said - "  
"No, it's - it's okay. I knew Jack had faith in me, but... " She swallowed, forcing herself to meet the other girl's eyes. "I betrayed him."  
She didn't answer for a long moment. "Maybe," she admitted slowly, "but I'm not going to give up on him yet, are you?"  
"Well, no - "  
"Good." The Tooth Fairy's eyes darted to the side, where Jack's staff lay forgotten on the floor. "Bring that with you - it may help Jack to see it when he wakes."  
Elsa bent down to pick it up. The staff was lighter than she expected it would be, the frost-laced wood grain giving it a smooth finish that spoke of many years of handling. When she straightened, the little fairies had returned with a slim stretcher that appeared as if it had been forged from spun gold. The Tooth Fairy helped them push Jack onto it, then watched as they slowly lifted it upright, calling out cheers as they began to lag a little. "Come along, girls! Jack isn't that heavy. You just have to fly him a little further, into the next room."  
"So you think he will wake, then?" Elsa asked, trailing a few steps behind.  
The Tooth Fairy turned back with a smile. "Positive thinking, remember?"  
Elsa dropped her gaze. "Tooth Fairy - "  
"Toothiana." She smiled, amused at Elsa's use of her title. "Toothiana is my name, but everyone calls me Tooth for short."  
Elsa nodded silently. She followed the fairies into the adjoining room where a narrow cot had been set up, covered in glittering, beaded blankets. Light filtered down onto the bedding from several open slants in the ceiling, and through one opening Elsa could see the luminous, almost ghostly sight of the half moon hanging in the bright blue sky.  
"Why will the moon help?" Elsa asked, watching as the fairies carefully moved Jack onto the bed.  
"Not the moon itself - the man in the moon," Tooth explained. "He chose all of us to be Guardians, and he helps protect us in whatever way he can. His biggest weapon against Pitch is his light, which resides in all of us. Lightly!" she called to her fairies as they pushed Jack's head onto a pillow. "That's right, girls, nice and easy! But the Man in the Moon's light is strongest of all," she continued, looking over at Elsa. "Combined with Jack's, the darkness that's inside of him will be burned away in no time - just a couple hours, I'm guessing, depending on how much is in his heart."  
Elsa blinked in surprise. "So easily?" Pitch's powers seemed so terrible, so strong. It was hard to believe that his opponents could remove the effects of his darkness so quickly.  
"Well, we were brought together to combat his forces, after all," Tooth said, bobbing her shoulder. "But it hasn't been easy. We've all fought bitter battles against Pitch, and he's come really close to destroying us. The worst of all was when Sandy died last spring. He hasn't said much about what happened, but I think the Man in the Moon had a lot to do with bringing him back."  
How simple that would be, to just remove the darkness from inside you, as if it had never existed? Elsa ran her thumb up and down a swirled frost pattern on Jack's staff, sighing a little wistfully. There was darkness inside her, she knew. It had grown when she was with Pitch - no doubt fed by the greater shadows that lived inside him - but it had been there long before she joined him, even before she knew his name. It had been with her always, it seemed, ever since she was small.  
For a moment, Elsa envied the Guardians and their great protector, the Man in the Moon. The darkness is heavy. So heavy. But they will never feel its weight for very long.  
"Is that why the Guardians have never actively hunted down Pitch?" Elsa asked, "because his attacks were never enough to permanently get rid of anyone?"  
Tooth turned to look at Elsa. "We don't want to destroy Pitch," she said, looking a little taken aback. "We've never wanted to. It's true that he stands against everything we value and fight to preserve, and that makes him our enemy. But even though he's come close to ruining the peace we've managed to establish, he doesn't deserve to die."  
"He doesn't feel that way about you," Elsa pointed out.  
She smiled wryly. "We've noticed. But North and Sandy believe that Pitch could change, someday - you know, abandon the darkness and come to our side. And sometimes... sometimes I want to believe it, too."  
Elsa stared at her, lost for words. She remembered the day that she first met Pitch, so long ago, when he held out his hand and let his darkness swirl and coalesce in his palm. She remembered his smug expression when he returned from haunting the sleep of children, and that oft-worn smile of his that was secretive and proud. He wielded his scythe perfectly - an extension of himself - and in shadows he could go anywhere, be anywhere. The darkness added to his strength and to his courage. It protected him. Maybe once he had grappled with it, struggled to overcome its will - hadn't he admitted as much, once? - but now he was the victor. The darkness was a part of him, and Elsa didn't think she could imagine Pitch without the shadows that trailed in his wake.  
And yet... and yet there were some moments when Elsa thought she could see the man beneath the layers of black malevolence. Every once in a while, she caught a glimpse of who he might have been from his lingering glances and thoughtful looks. Even rarer than that, she could hear it in his voice - when his low, dulcet tones cracked, testifying to a torn conscious beneath his bitter melancholy and hate.  
Could Pitch abandon the darkness inside him? Elsa wondered. Not to join the Guardians - he would never do that. But if there was another reason, if he could be persuaded to give it up, could he?  
Would he?  
Tooth was still looking at her.  
"Perhaps," Elsa answered carefully, but she knew it wasn't true. Pitch would never surrender his hard-won dominance over the darkness - not willingly.  
Toothiana nodded. She had opened her mouth to say more when one of the small fairies flew up to her, calling in its high-pitched voice. Tooth listened to its small squeaks and nodded seriously. "Okay, then. Tell them I'm on my way."  
"Where are you - " Elsa broke off, astonished to see Toothiana's bright wings burst into motion, pulling her up into the air.  
"The communication with North is up and running," Tooth explained, seemingly oblivious to Elsa's stare. "We'll have to figure out what to do now, especially with... especially with Jack the way he is." She flew to his side, her expression turning soft as she looked at him. She reached out to brush her small, delicate fingers against his still hand. Then she folded her arm against her chest and glanced at Elsa. "Will Pitch come to take you back?"  
Elsa started. That same worry had been growing at the edge of her mind, but she had no answer to give. "I... don't know," she admitted, squeezing Jack's staff with both hands. "He did seem surprised when I came here, but I'm not sure he actually will come."  
At least, that's what one part of her believed. Another whispered, he will come. He would not let me leave so easily a second time. He will come back for me.  
Toothiana nodded affirmatively. "I'll leave some fairies to stay with you. Let me know if Jack... if he just happens to... " She stopped, hesitating for a second too long. Finally she nodded again. "So... watch after him, alright?" And then she took off, her feathers gleaming as she leapt out of one of the windows and soared into the sunlight.  
Elsa glanced down at Jack. She slowly kneeled down beside him, taking care to smooth the long train of her skirt behind her. "Toothiana thinks this will help," she said, setting the long staff down between them. "I hope it will. Jack... "  
She trailed off, torn between the impulse to apologize again - because it was her fault, all of it - and the strange Anna-like desire to say something cheerful or witty - anything to make Jack wake up.  
Anna. She would know what to do. While Elsa had spent her childhood studying the history of the royal families, politics and procedures with trade, and negotiation practices between Arendelle's neighboring countries, Anna had spent her years reading the stories that had been spun from hearsay of troll magic, and the mysteries of the old places of the world. Anna would have had an idea - several, probably - of how to wake up Jack and make sense of the situation with Pitch.  
Pitch...  
"Does Elsa know?" Jack's head tipped in her direction. "Have you told her the truth, yet?"  
Elsa's eyes narrowed. Truth - truth about Pitch. Something that Jack knew, but Pitch hadn't told her. Didn't want to tell me, perhaps.  
There were so many secrets between the three of them: secrets Elsa had kept from Jack, secrets Pitch still kept from her, and Jack... Elsa looked down at him. Are there secrets you're keeping from me, Jack Frost?  
His face was peaceful, unlined. It gave her no answers.  
Elsa looked up at the sky. The moon glowed in the deep blue sky, its icy white color deceptive. The air was humid and warm - no, she corrected herself, it's almost... hot.   
It was an unpleasant sensation; she wasn't used to feeling hot.   
Elsa lifted a hand, shooting up a pocket of ice that exploded overhead like fireworks. The minute beads of sweat froze on her forehead, and she inhaled the frigid air with pleasure. "Better," she sighed. The cold air was probably better for Jack, too.  
The minutes passed, and Toothiana did not return. After a while, Elsa became aware of the small cluster of fairies that were hovering high above, near where the archways met the ceiling. They were watching her silently, almost motionlessly, blinking at her with their bright, reflective eyes.  
"You can come down," Elsa said gently, trying for a smile. "You don't need to be afraid of me."  
Or at least, I wish you didn't have to be afraid of me, she amended silently. Jack lay before her, proof that she was dangerous. The best I can promise is that I will never intentionally hurt you, or anyone. Not ever.  
Perhaps it was her weak smile, or maybe her thoughts had shown on her face, but only one fairy accepted her invitation. It chirped once to its companions before sailing down between Jack and Elsa. It fluttered back and forth above Jack, studying his sleeping face intently. "You're worried for him," Elsa interpreted, smiling a little. The fairy glanced up at her and squeaked a few times. "Toothiana says the moon will burn the darkness away."  
The fairy swooped into a fold of fabric between Jack's neck and hood, nestling down. "He'll be alright," Elsa murmured, as much to herself as to the fairy. "Everything will be... it'll be alright."  
The fairy's face twisted and it shivered. Suddenly it darted away from Jack and up to Elsa, where it brushed two tiny hands against Elsa's thumb. It fell back with a shocked squeak, its arms wrapped tightly around its trembling body.  
"I'm sorry," Elsa said. "I suppose I'm quite cold."  
The fairy chirruped, looking pointedly from Elsa to Jack and back again. "Yes," Elsa agreed, reaching out to brush Jack's cheek. "He's cold, too... "  
Except that he wasn't. He wasn't as warm-blooded as Pitch, but Elsa could tell that the greater part of his natural chill had left him. He's no longer the same temperature as me, she thought. She hoped that the Man in the Moon was actually helping, and that Jack's gradual warm-up was only a sign that he was fighting off the darkness inside him.  
The fairy squeaked.  
"We should both be cold," Elsa said, knowing that the fairy had noticed the stark temperature contrast between them. "We're both spirits of ice, so it makes sense that we would be similar that way. But Jack is... "  
Different. He was different in every way. They might both wield snow and frost, but he carried with him the joy of that element, too. He was the laughter, the pleasure, and the merriment that came with winter. He was the youth and the enthusiasm, and the optimism of a world made clean and white.  
And she was...  
I am the bitterness, the sorrow, and the darkness. Elsa stared down into her lap. Next to Jack, I feel old and weary, unable to hope in the brightness he sees. Jack recognizes life and goodness everywhere, even in me.  
Even in me.  
The little tooth fairy hopped onto Elsa's knee. It stroked the closest ice crystal shard on her dress and smiled.  
Elsa found herself smiling back.  
There was a flutter of wings. Toothiana dropped through one of the openings in the roof, trailed by several fairies. "How is he?" she asked immediately, sailing over to peer at Jack. "Has he stirred at all?"  
"No." Elsa shook her head.  
"Oh, but his cuts are healing." She pulled at the torn sleeve, showing Elsa that the slash had, at least, stopped bleeding. The scrape on his cheek was looking better, too; it seemed more like a two-day-old scratch than a close call against Pitch's scythe. "Too bad his other injuries aren't as easy to fix."  
Elsa swallowed hard. "I know.  
The little tooth fairy patted her knee.  
Toothiana flew around the other side of Jack so she could look Elsa in the eye. "So I just got finished talking to North and Bunnymund. We decided that it would be best if everyone came here to talk to you in person."  
Elsa went rigid. "A-All of you?" she asked worriedly. "All the - Guardians?"  
"Of course. Bunny said he'd try to find Sandy - but we all know that he doesn't have the resources that I do. Am I right, girls?" she asked, beaming at the fairies around her. "I told him so, but he said he could find him faster. Isn't that just nuts?" She laughed, and the fairies squeaked along with her.  
Elsa tried to smile, but couldn't seem to summon the courage.  
"Anyway," Tooth continued, "North said it would take him a little longer to come than normal, since he leant a certain someone his snow globe." She glanced knowingly from Jack to Elsa. "Is that how you got him here?"  
"Yes."  
"Nice move," she commented appreciatively. "It'll take a while to get the rest of the Guardians here, but when they come, we can talk about what to do."  
"About what?" Elsa asked, but she already knew the answer.  
"About Pitch, and... "  
And about me, Elsa finished for her. About what I've done.  
Long ago, she had begged to be free from shackles and imprisonment, sure that if she was just left alone, she would never hurt anyone. She knew that was impossible now - Pitch would find her, or Jack, or even her own memories, and she was powerless to stop the ensuing wave of ice and grief that would follow. Perhaps prison was the best place for her - somewhere hidden, away from the people she had begun to care about, and away from anyone she could hurt. Perhaps with the Guardians as my jailors, she thought, I will never hurt Jack again.  
She held out her wrists. "I know the judgment you will pass on me, and I understand. Really. It would be best for everyone if I were locked away - "  
"No!" Toothiana pushed Elsa's hands away, looking horrified. "We wouldn't do that to you, especially without hearing what Jack has to say."  
"But Jack... "  
" - will get better," she said firmly. "And right now, he needs your help with that."  
Elsa sat back wordlessly.   
Tooth pressed her lips together pensively. "When Jack told us about you, he said that you used to work for Pitch."  
" ... yes."  
The Tooth Fairy's eyes darted up to meet Elsa's. "Why the hesitation? You're not - you're not still with him, are you?"  
"I... I don't know," she admitted, cringing. "I don't want to help him destroy you - "  
"Well, that's a start!" Her face quickly became serious again. "When you were with Pitch, did he teach you to control your powers?"  
"Yes, but when I'm nervous or worried, I lose that control."  
"Doesn't matter, so long as you know how."  
Elsa curled her fingernails into her skirt anxiously. "Why?" she asked, half-fearing the answer. "You want me to - "  
"Yes! Help Jack!" Toothiana smiled encouragingly. "You can unfreeze the ice you put inside him. It would speed his healing exponentially!"  
She shut her eyes. This was like a dream - a terrible, terrible dream. First she had frozen Jack, and watched him crumple to the ground before her. Now the Tooth Fairy was asking her to undo what she had done, just like Anna had long ago.  
"Well, that's okay." Anna's words drifted through her mind, though the sound of her voice was long forgotten. "You can just unfreeze it."  
"I can't," Elsa whispered aloud, repeating her own lines back. "I - I don't know how."  
"Sure you can," Toothiana said, but there was a shade of doubt in her voice. Elsa flinched, recognizing those words as Anna's, too. "Didn't you ever learn how?" Tooth pressed.  
Elsa shook her head.  
"Didn't Pitch - "  
"I can only control my powers when I don't feel," Elsa said, squeezing her eyes tighter. "When I close off my heart and my emotions, then I can get my ice to do what I want. That's what Pitch taught me."  
The Tooth Fairy's voice sounded sad. "I guess it makes sense, that Pitch would teach you that. But you never taught yourself how to - "  
"No." Elsa took a deep breath. "I've never been able to thaw anything I've made." And now Jack is going to die, just like Anna, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.  
"Hm. Well, Pitch is strong, but he doesn't know everything. To control your abilities by preventing yourself from feeling - that's not how it's supposed to work. That might be how Pitch does it, but it's not right."  
Elsa opened her eyes, squinting a little in the bright sun. "It's the only way I know. It's the only proven way that I can be with anyone for any length of time without fearing that I'll hurt someone."  
"So... then your magic is powered from your own fear."  
Elsa lifted her hands, gesturing wordlessly. What could she say? There was no other way. She had wracked her brain, but cutting off her emotions had been the only technique that had helped. She was too dangerous otherwise.  
"No," Tooth amended, looking at her, "that isn't right - your power uses your own fear against you."  
"So what if it does?" Elsa hunched forward, rocking the little fairy from its perch. It squeaked in protest. "Ever since I was small, people have been afraid of me, of what I can do. And it's with good reason - I've killed people and destroyed cities. I am something to be afraid of, and I always will be unless I keep it together."  
Toothiana looked away. She was quiet for a long while. "You know," she said slowly, "not everyone was afraid of you."  
Elsa shook her head. "Jack isn't - "  
"I meant your sister," Tooth said quietly.  
Anna. Elsa forced herself to swallow. "Maybe not at first, but she did in the end. How could she be otherwise, when I was the one... the one who murdered her?" The words sounded harsh, even in her own ears, but Elsa knew they were true.  
Tooth's eyebrows scrunched together. "She wasn't. She was confused and hurt, but she never feared you. And she never hated you, Elsa."  
Elsa fought against the sting of coming tears, against her longing as she wished - she wished - that Toothiana's words were true. "How do you know?"  
She reached for Elsa's hand. "Come with me," she said gently. "I need to show you something."  
Elsa reluctantly stood. As if on cue, the fairies surrounding Tooth dropped down to linger around Jack. The one on Elsa's knee flew up to perch on her braid, clearly wanting to be included. Toothiana glanced at the tiny girl, then did a double-take. "You're the same one that befriended... "  
"What is it?" Elsa queried. The Tooth Fairy was looking between her fairy and Jack, a curious look on her face.   
"Nothing!" she answered casually. She drifted forward, away from Jack, and Elsa followed.  
They left Jack's room and went to a small antechamber, which led to a narrow catwalk that spanned the empty air between their spire and the next. Each tower was linked by such a precarious walkway, though neither Toothiana nor her tooth fairies seemed to need them. Elsa wished she, too, had wings as they passed through one tower and came to the next. Instead she kept her eyes forward and tried not to peek at the dizzying drop below.  
In the fifth spire, Tooth released Elsa's hand and glided forward. "Each Guardian is charged with protecting a specific aspect of childhood: North is wonder, Bunny is hope, Sandy is dreams, and Jack - well, I bet you can guess what Jack protects."  
"I can think of several things." Innocence, kindness, trust, courage - he exemplified all those qualities.  
The Tooth Fairy looked back with a smile. "Fun. Didn't he ever try to get you to ice skate with him, or have a snowball fight, or go sledding?"  
"Oh... yes. Once. The rest of the time... " The rest of the time, he'd been trying to cheer her up. I guess being with me forced him to act outside his character, Elsa thought, glancing at the little fairy. It only blinked up at her, bright eyes wide.  
Toothiana smiled sadly, as if she guessed what Elsa was thinking. "Jack always tries his best to make people happy. That's part of his gift."  
"I'm not sure I ever made him feel very successful at it," Elsa said.  
"Now don't you start thinking like that," she chided, flying closer. Her voice sharpened with each word. "Jack stayed with you because he wanted to, and he shared his smiles with you because he thought they would cheer you up. Jack is still with you because he cares, don't you see?"  
Elsa stared into Toothiana's beautiful face, realizing what should have taken her a few seconds to notice, if only she had been more observant: Tooth's passionate concern, her lingering glances, her tentative touch as she brushed Jack's hand - she loves him, Elsa thought, lowering her gaze abashedly to the ground.  
"I'm sorry," she murmured, but whether she was apologizing for her melancholy words, the current situation, or the fact that Jack had clearly chosen her over Tooth, she wasn't sure.  
Tooth just nodded, accepting the words for what they were. "Don't twist Jack's feelings into something they're not. That's something Pitch would do, to make the world a darker place." She smiled a little. "Yours doesn't have to be, Elsa, so don't judge him too harshly."  
The little fairy chirped in agreement and stroked Elsa's pale hair.  
"I didn't mention what my Guardianship is over," Tooth said, spreading her hands wide. "It's memory. As children grow up, they lose the best part of their childhood memories. We keep those for them, in the form of their teeth. If they ever need to be reminded of happier times, my fairies will help them remember."  
"You do that for them?" Elsa asked.  
"We help adults, too, who have forgotten," she replied, sending her a sideways glance.  
Elsa looked back at her, lost for words. Does Toothiana mean... is she saying... ?  
Tooth gestured with one hand. "Here. Follow me."  
They went to the next room - a high circular chamber with many open windows that looked out into the blue sky and distant mountains. At each corner of the oddly-shaped room stood tall, thin columns of gold, pockmarked with tiny jewels like a beehive. No - not jewels. Little faces. Elsa stepped closer until she could make out the tiny image of smiling girls and boys, all at the end of angular cases. There were so many of them, all sitting in little pockets that spiraled up and around the column. Elsa tipped her head back, but from what she could see, the column went all the way up to the mosaic ceiling high above. And there are four more just like this one, she thought, looking around the room.  
"Everyone's teeth are here," Toothiana said, pointing vaguely.  
"Everyone's?" Elsa echoed.  
"That's right."  
Elsa looked back at the towering columns in awe.  
Toothiana nodded to the little fairy on Elsa's shoulder, who promptly flew away. "Elsa..." She linked her fingers together, her voice turning serious as she floated closer. "I... I remember you. It's hard not to notice a little girl with a childhood like yours. It's funny, because I didn't think you were the same girl when Jack mentioned you. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that you were. You had to be."  
"So you know all about me, then," Elsa said quietly. It was a relief, in a way, knowing that she wouldn't have to explain the details of her history. Toothiana knew about it, yet she didn't treat Elsa like she deserved - like she was a criminal. A killer.  
The Tooth Fairy nodded. "Your past is full of sadness, but it has shining moments of happiness, too."  
"Happiness?" she asked, unable to conceal the doubt in her voice.  
Toothiana nodded again. "Yes, and... I think it's time you saw some of that."  
"See it?" Elsa questioned. She caught sight of the little fairy coming back, a long hexagonal case clutched in her arms. "How can you... ?"  
"With the teeth." The fairy dropped the gold case into her mistress's hand and Toothiana turned, holding it out to Elsa. There was a small illustration on one end, similar to the others Elsa had seen: a girl with a fragile smile, her short white-blonde braid held back with a headband.  
Me, Elsa thought, her mouth falling open. Me, when I was a child.  
"Do you want to see them?" Tooth asked quietly. "Your memories from childhood?"  
"I... "  
Toothiana promised that there were happy moments from the past in the case, and on a theoretical level, Elsa supposed that there were some, despite her inability to remember them. Those memories must have all been before she had accidentally struck her sister, back when her powers were a gift - beautiful and fun. Before her parents moved her bed into a separate room and brought in tutors to fill her hours with memorization, recitation, and study. Before she learned that she was capable of injuring the people she loved most.  
Elsa knew that those memories - the glittering ones, so full of joy and hope - were the ones inside. She knew it, and supposed that it would be nice to see them again, but... that wasn't the reason that drew her hand up from her side. What lured her fingers to ghost over the image of her younger self, tracing that brittle smile, was Anna. I will see your face, she thought, see your smile. After so long, I will heal the pieces of you that are missing from my mind.  
I will hear your voice again, Anna.  
She blinked against the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. "Yes," she rasped, nodding once. "Yes, I want to see them."


	13. Song of the Past

The world silently broke into panes of glass. Each one glinted as it rotated inward, revealing a scene from many years in the past: the shadowy interior of Elsa's bedchamber.  
There was someone tapping on the door. A much younger Elsa stirred in her bed, turning away from the sound. "Go away," she mumbled sleepily, burying her face in the pillow.  
The tapping paused for a few moments, then continued, forming a melody that little Elsa was just beginning to recognize. Tap tap ta-tap tap. "Elsa," a soft child's voice whispered. "Elsa. Are you awake?"  
Elsa rolled over again. "No, I'm not," she mumbled.  
Anna was still for a long while. "I..." she said quietly. "I had a nightmare."  
Elsa opened one eye and then the other. She looked at her door, at the dark flowers painted against pale blue, and imagined her sister on the other side. Anna was probably standing with her hands pressed against the wood, her eyes lowered to the ground - bashful and subdued, just as she always was when she had bad dreams. Before Elsa had been moved to another room, Anna would tug on her sleeve and wait patiently for her to wake up. The dreams scared all the courage out of her, and Elsa had seen the remembered fear countless times as Anna relayed the nightmare, her blue eyes wide.  
Now Elsa swallowed hard and sat up. She knew she should tell Anna to go away, or to go find Momma or Papa, but... Her small hands gripped the blankets. This was Anna's first nightmare since everything had happened, and Elsa wanted to help. She wanted Anna to depend on her, and she wanted to be able to comfort her.  
That was hard, especially because now she had to stay in her room.  
"... Elsa?" Anna's voice was hesitant. "Are you... are you there?"  
Elsa pushed back her blankets and wriggled out of bed. "I'm here," she called, coming close to crouch down against the door. "What happened?"  
Anna was quiet for half a second more, then her resolve broke. "There - There was this monster in the corner of my room. I tried to light a candle, but it didn't work. 'Go away!' I told the monster, but it didn't, it was just there, and it kept looking at me with these yellow eyes. I said, 'stop looking! Stop looking!' but it didn't go away and I know it was going to get me, Elsa. It came closer and closer - "  
Finally Anna's words gave way to tears. Elsa heard the soft thump as Anna pressed her forehead against the door. Elsa placed her hand flat against the wood. "It's okay," she said, raising her voice above Anna's sobs. "The monster wasn't real, Anna. There are no monsters in Arendelle. You know that."  
"But it was so real!" She sniffed. "I don't wanna go back to my room."  
"You have to," Elsa said softly.  
"Well, I don't wanna!"  
"Anna... "  
"It was so scary! You don't understand, 'cause you don't get bad dreams."  
Elsa sighed, but she couldn't argue against that. Anna was only partially right, though; Elsa did get bad dreams, but they just didn't bother her. When the monsters stared at her from the shadows, she had always stared right back.  
"Anna, go back to sleep." Elsa slowly pulled her hand away. "You'll be okay."  
"No I won't!" Anna's voice squeaked with emotion. "'Cause you're not there!"  
Elsa dropped her head. "I can't come, Anna," she whispered.  
Bump. Anna thumped her hand against the door. "You make them go away. Without you, the nightmares'll come back, I know they will!"  
Elsa stared at her hands in her lap.  
Bump. "You can come out, just for tonight. No one's gonna see you!" Bump. "You can chase away the monsters, then go back in your room!"  
"Anna - "  
Bum-bump. "It's perfect!" she cried, excitement conquering the fear in her voice. "And maybe - maybe we can play! Just for tonight!"  
Elsa opened her mouth, but a distant voice from down the hall froze her words. "Anna? What are you doing out of bed?"  
Papa's voice joined momma's. "Get away from Elsa's door. You know she can't come out - "  
"But... but I had a nightmare," Anna protested plaintively.  
"Then come and tell us about it." Momma's gentle voice was so close now - just on the other side of the door. "Monsters are afraid of grown-ups."  
"Elsa says - "  
"Elsa can't help you," papa said, his voice firm. "Her door will always stay closed."  
"Dear," Momma murmured.  
"Anna... " Papa's voice softened a little. "Let's go to bed, alright? Elsa needs her sleep, too."  
"Okay," Anna mumbled. Her shuffling steps followed her parents' down the hall. "Goodnight, Elsa."  
Elsa leaned her head against the door. "Goodnight, Anna," she whispered back.  
The scene changed in a brief flash of light. It was daylight now, and an older Elsa was sitting on her bed, a book opened on her lap. The heading at the top read "Procedures of the Calculation and Collection of Wealth Owed to the Crown, as Represented in Values Being Monetary, Production, Service, or Any Other Equivalent as Dictated Therein." There was an intense look of concentration on Elsa's face as she stared at the page, as if she was trying very hard to read and block out the upbeat chatter that was coming through from the other side of the door.  
" - and I just happened to look outside, and it is such a beautiful day out there! I thought to myself, has Elsa seen how great it looks today? Obviously not, because, y'know, you're in your room - "  
"Yes, Anna, I have." Elsa didn't look towards her window, which looked out over the town and toward the distant high fells.  
"You have? Wait, did you come out and I wasn't there?"  
She sighed. "I have a window, remember?"  
"Ohh. Right."  
Elsa dug a finger into her twisted braid, searching for a hidden pin that was poking just above her ear. Anna was never this talkative, especially in the morning. "You have so much energy. Why don't you go run around for a while?"  
"That's the idea I had! Okay, we have lots of options. We could go... hiking!"  
We? Elsa shook her head. "No thank you."  
"How about... boating?"  
"No, Anna."  
"We could climb something! Like... a mountain!"  
"No."  
"We could learn how to swim!"  
"No."  
"But I don't know how, and I bet you don't know, either - "  
"No, Anna." She dropped her head in one hand.  
"Then how about cliff jumping?"  
"No."  
"Rearrange the furniture!"  
"N - !" Elsa's head shot up in surprise. "Wait. Rearrange the furniture?"  
Anna giggled. "Yep. The look on Momma and Papa's faces are the best - especially if the servants didn't have a chance to move everything back the way it was, yet."  
Elsa laughed. She actually could picture the look on her parents' faces. "You really do that?"  
"Yeah, sometimes. It's pretty boring out here, most of the time."  
The smile faded from Elsa's face. She turned back to her book. "I need to get back to studying, Anna."  
"But don't you want to - "  
"No, Anna! I can't." She gripped the cover of her book with both hands. "Please go away."  
All of Anna's breath huffed out at once. "Okay, fine, you don't want to do anything fun! I get it, okay? I just... I just wanted to do something with you. With my sister."  
Elsa didn't reply, and after a while, Anna went away. It's better this way, Elsa told herself silently as she turned the page. As long as Anna is safe from me, then it doesn't matter. Loneliness doesn't matter.  
Quick footsteps came hurrying back to her room. "Oh by the way, I forgot to tell you," Anna said in a rush, "but Cook's new frosted cross buns are amazing. You should have one, they're really, really good."  
Elsa couldn't help but smile as she listened to Anna's retreating steps once more. Remind mother not to let Anna near the frosted cross buns, she wrote in the margin of her page. Then she sat back and, propping the book on her knees, went back to reading.  
The scene changed again, scanning rapidly through a series of days that burred past with all the efficiency of a card player flipping through his deck. Each time, a small envelope was pushed under the door, the words Happy Birthday scrawled across the top. The contents of the envelope changed as the years passed; sometimes it was a simple drawing of two girls holding hands, the sun smiling above them in the sky. Sometimes there was a small note with the picture, the words large and unbalanced - Happy Birthday Elsa! I know it will be good because your good too. Love Anna. PS. Do you wanna build a snowman sometime? Love Anna.  
Then the pictures grew smaller and the note grew longer - Dear Elsa, Happy Birthday! Momma told me they got you new gloves, since you outgrew your old ones. What did Papa get you? He wouldn't tell me. Did you like the stationary set I got you? I like all the different quills, especially the swan feather one. You can try it out sometime by writing me a letter, if you want. What kind of dessert did you ask for for your birthday celebration? Cook says you haven't decided yet. My favorite is spice cake, which is really good. You can ask for that, if you don't know what to pick. I know you'll like it, too.  
And more time passed. The pictures vanished altogether, and the length of the letter grew smaller, more concise. Elsa herself grew older, more dignified, though still unsure of herself. The morning of her first birthday after her parents' deaths showed her looking at her reflection in a small hand mirror. "This is the face of the woman who will be Queen," she murmured critically, looking from her small chin to her too-pale cheeks and up to the haunting sadness in her eyes. "This woman, who has never been outside since she was a child, who has a power that could destroy everything if she slipped up just once, will be Queen." She shut her eyes, forcing away the image of herself. "Why did you have to die?" she asked fiercely, turning her head.  
Elsa's fingers twitched and she gently put down the mirror before pressing her gloved hand against her chest. "I will never measure up to the legacy you left behind, Father," she whispered.  
There was a soft hsssh sound, and Elsa turned. There was a letter under her door, and a shadow from the other side that quickly disappeared in the muffled sound of heeled boots against rich carpet. Elsa looked from the distant wall down to the letter, which lay innocently on the floor. After a few moments she stood and went to go pick it up. There was no envelope this time - just a single sheet of parchment paper, folded over once. Elsa flipped it open, smoothing the crease between her fingers, and read:  
Elsa,  
Happy Birthday. I know my letters to you in the last few years haven't been as long or well-written as they should be, and I'm sorry. I bet you thought I was going to forget this time, but I didn't. This past year, with Mother and Father... well, it's made me realize that family is important. And I want you to know that you're important to me, Elsa.  
I didn't get you a present - I wouldn't know what to get you, anyway, now that I think about it. But the best I can give you is a promise that I will try and understand. I don't know why you lock yourself in there, or why you won't talk to me, or what even happened to make you pull away like that in the first place. But I promise that I'll try not to fight your decision. I mean, you're where you want to be and you're happy about it, so... well, I'll try to be happy with that, too.  
But if you ever want to talk, then I'm here.  
I love you, Elsa. Have a great birthday.  
Anna  
P.S. And if you ever do want to build that snowman, I'm totally up for that, too.  
And Elsa smiled as the first tear slipped down her cheek.  
Then the world changed, fading to white one last time -  
Elsa was crouched on the ice, one arm curved against her chest. The air was still, so still, the snowflakes suspended in the bitterly cold air - but Elsa didn't care. She didn't feel it, didn't feel anything. "Anna," she gasped. Agony and terrible acknowledgement were written across her face, marring her beautiful features. "Anna, no..."  
She heard the sound of metal against metal, but didn't move. She heard the heavy steps of hurrying feet coming toward her, felt the vibrations faintly through the thick ice. Elsa turned away, as if she anticipated the footsteps to retreat again, like they always had before -  
And then there was a scream. Her sister's scream. Elsa looked up at the piercing shriek of shattering metal, just in time to see the billowing fabric of Anna's cloak crystallize into ice. Fragments of Prince Hans's sword exploded around her, but Elsa didn't flinch. She stared at her sister's back in horror. One of Anna's hands was stretched upward, blocking the blow that should have killed her - killed them both - and the other was swept behind her, as if to shield Elsa from harm.  
Protecting Elsa, at the expense of her own life.  
The world shattered into little diamonds of jewel-toned glass and spun away, revealing the familiar sunny room in the Tooth Palace. Elsa gasped in shock, her hand flying away from the case as if she had been stung. Toothiana smiled, but she was watching Elsa seriously, her large eyes scanning her face. "Your past," she said finally, when Elsa didn't speak.  
"Anna," Elsa breathed. She stared at the image of her younger self on the case. The memories of her childhood had been strong - she felt as if she had been ripped from a dream. "My sister. I saw her, I - "  
No, Elsa realized. I didn't. I didn't... actually see her at all...  
A rush of emotion climbed up her throat and pricked at her eyes. At least I heard her voice, she told herself, but that didn't stop her tears from blurring her vision. Even in my memories, I can't see her face, she thought, shutting her eyes.  
"I didn't see her," she whispered.  
"What?"  
"I didn't - " Elsa's throat closed suddenly, choking her, and she had to swallow a few times before she could speak again. "I didn't... get to see Anna. Not in anything that happened - "  
"You saw what your memories held," Tooth said softly. There was pity in her voice. "Elsa... you didn't need to see her, then. Anna was always hoping to see you, but you... you never looked at her. So even at the end, when she was right next to you - "  
"I didn't pay attention." Elsa pressed her lips together, trying hard not to let a single tear escape. Of course. I should have known. I suppose I took her for granted, back then.  
"At least I got to hear her voice," Elsa made herself say, but the words were hollow, resigned.  
Tooth didn't reply. Elsa opened her eyes and looked at her. The Tooth Fairy was looking straight back. "But Elsa," she said, "don't you see?"  
Elsa's voice was toneless. "See what?"  
"That Anna didn't fear you, or even hate you." She shrugged slightly. "She never did."  
Elsa turned away.  
"Your sister loved you, Elsa," Tooth called. "Even in the end."  
If you ever want to talk, then I'm here, Anna had written.  
I love you, Elsa.  
And the way Anna had stood in the last moment, completely shielding Elsa from danger, even when she could have let her die and saved herself -  
"I know," Elsa whispered.  
Tooth gently touched her shoulder. "Then you don't have to be sad anymore. You know she cared for you - that means her sacrifice wasn't in vain."  
Wasn't it? Elsa asked herself. I never told Anna how I felt, and what she meant to me. Does her death still count if Anna died without knowing I cared for her in return?  
"What?" the Tooth Fairy prompted, still watching her.  
Elsa shook her head. "I only wonder if she knew how I felt. About her."  
Tooth's eyes softened. "I think she did.  
"Did she say so in her memories?"  
"Not in plain words, but she could tell." She smiled a little. "Anyone who looks at you can tell what you felt about her."  
Maybe that was true. Elsa hoped it was. "I wish that... I wish that I'd had the power to save her."  
"You do. You've always had it."  
Elsa's head shot up. "I told you," she began, half in frustration and half in misery, "I can't unfreeze anything - "  
"Yes, you can." Tooth floated around to see her better. "You've known how all along: it's love."  
"Love?" she echoed. "You mean, an act of true love?"  
"Yep, and it's strong enough to thaw a frozen heart." She bobbed one shoulder, her feathers shimmering in the sun. "Even yours."  
"Mine? Anna was the one who froze to death. So did I had to melt my coldness, or my frigid demeanor to prove that - ?"  
Elsa stopped short. It made sense - the one who placed the ice had to perform an act of love to melt it. It was so simple. And that's why Anna died, Elsa thought - because I didn't prove I loved her.  
I do have a frozen heart. I gave it to myself - long ago, when I decided to shut Anna out.  
Fighting the lump in her throat, Elsa dragged a hand through the side of her hair, stopping halfway through to grip her braid. She pressed her cheek against her wrist. "I couldn't have saved her anyway, no matter what I did," she whispered. "I don't even know what love is."  
"Hey, hey!" Tooth exclaimed. "Don't say things like that!"  
"But it's true. I feel things, but I don't know if it's love or just compassion or concern or regret. I don't even know how I feel about Jack."  
Toothiana's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you're right," she said in a hard voice, "but you were capable of love, once. It was the reason you agreed to lock yourself away from your sister in the first place - to keep her safe. But over time, when your powers grew, fear took the place of love. And when your parents died, the last of your love dissolved all together." She crossed her arms angrily. "That was what first drew Pitch to you, you know. That was what made you so attractive."  
"Because my heart was filled with darkness," Elsa acknowledged quietly. She looked down at her hand. Her skin was so pale that she could see the faint color of her blue veins in her wrist. She imagined that instead of blood, her body circulated the same blackness that ran through Pitch. "And the darkness is still there," she murmured.  
"Not as much as you think," Tooth contradicted her. "Jack helped you with that. Just - Just open your heart and let the feelings flow out. The love will come, and with it you can wake up Jack!"  
If only it were that easy. Elsa sighed. But how can I encourage the love to come when I don't even... when I can't...  
A high, frantic squeaking sound broke through Elsa's thoughts. Three of the small fairies zoomed past her head and circled around Tooth, chirping all the while. "Whoa, wait a second!" Tooth cried, raising her hands. "Calm down, baby teeth! I can't understand what you mean when you're all talking at the same time. North? What about him?"  
Two of the fairies fell silent, clinging to each other. Tooth listened as the other fairy explained again, its small arms gesturing wildly. As Elsa watched, Tooth's look of worry quickly changed to one of astonishment, then apprehension. "How long ago?" she breathed.  
The fairy gave a shaky squeak.  
Tooth blanched.  
"What's wrong?" Elsa took a step forward. The expression on the Tooth Fairy's face was beginning to scare her. "Toothiana, what's happened?"  
Tooth looked at her. "Pitch," she whispered.  
Elsa pulled back, her eyes widening. But she wasn't surprised - not really. I knew it, she thought before she could stop herself. "What has he done?" she asked, her voice strangely calm.  
Tooth gave her an odd look. "What he's doing. My fairies say that North just sent an emergency transmission: Pitch is attacking the Pole. Bunny is helping him to repel Pitch's shadows, but they're gonna need some help. We were barely able to drive him away last time, and that was with Jack... " She faltered, biting her bottom lip anxiously. "... anyway. As soon as Sandy gets here, the two of us will go and provide some support."  
Elsa nodded, but something about Pitch's attack didn't seem right. Why would he attack the North Pole? she wondered. He heard me ask the snow globe to take me here - I remember, I saw his face change.  
Perhaps he thinks Toothiana took me to meet Santa Claus? It was possible - in different circumstances, Tooth might have done just that, and Pitch did try to think two steps ahead of his enemies. But Pitch knew about her wariness of the Guardians, especially of their leader...  
Elsa pushed her musings aside; rarely were Pitch's actions easy to predict, and his thoughts were less so. "I want to help," she told Tooth.  
She shook her head once, sharply. "No. Absolutely not. Out of the question."  
Elsa blinked, surprised. "Why not?"  
"You would be an easy target, and Pitch would go after you first of all."  
Elsa opened her mouth for a rebuttal, but the Tooth Fairy shook her head again, talking over her. "I know you can fight - you froze North all those years ago, right? But... do you want to fight Pitch? I know you... I guess you still feel... " She trailed off, looking unhappy.  
Elsa turned away, forcing her eyes up to the sky. She didn't want to fight Pitch, but... what he was doing was wrong. Is this your effort to retrieve me? she asked him silently, gazing at the glint of a far-off cloud in the distance. Or is this something more - your chance to be rid of the Guardians, once and for all?  
No... that cloud wasn't a cloud. Elsa frowned, narrowing her eyes as the golden mist drew closer. It shimmered in the afternoon heat, like flakes of snow - or sand, Elsa realized. And on top of it all was a man with wispy yellow hair -  
"Sandy!" Tooth cried. She flew up to him as he began to descend, meeting him halfway. "Sandy, there's been some developments. North called to say that Pitch is attacking the Pole."  
The Sandman stepped off his golden streams and onto solid ground. Elsa kept her distance, using Tooth's news to examine him unnoticed. She'd expected someone tall and imposing like Pitch, but the Sandman was very small. His wide face seemed made for broad smiles, but now his expression was very grave. He glanced up at Tooth, and an image of a small rabbit appeared above his head, sparkling golden like his sand.  
"Yes, Bunny's with him," Tooth answered, dipping a few feet in the air so he wouldn't have to tilt his head so far back to look at her. "They were going to try and hold off the Bogeyman for as long as possible."  
A crooked shepherd's staff appeared next - an exact replica of Jack's. The Sandman - he's mute, Elsa realized in astonishment.  
Tooth fidgeted. "Jack still... he hasn't awakened yet."  
The Sandman's eyes flickered to Elsa, and she started. A snowflake materialized along with a question mark, and Tooth turned to follow his gaze. "Yes," she said. "That's her, the Snow Queen. Her name is Elsa."  
The Sandman's eyes crinkled and smiled. It was the warmest smile Elsa had seen in a long while, and she felt herself smiling back. The Sandman bowed low, pressing his hand over his heart.  
"I'm glad to meet you," Elsa said, nodding in return.  
The Sandman straightened. He raised his eyebrows a little and motioned with one hand, as if to say, the pleasure is mine. Then his eyes drifted to the sky and his amiable expression faded. "Oh no," Toothiana breathed, and Elsa twisted around to look.  
Black clouds were filling the sky from the west - clumps of shadow that blotted out every bit of light that it touched. Elsa watched, feeling helpless as the heavy darkness swallowed the sun and rolled toward the moon. "Pitch," she whispered.  
"We have to do something!" Toothiana cried, but too late - the shadows crashed in front of the moon in cascading waves, turning the world a dim grey.  
"He's divided his forces," Elsa murmured, but it didn't make any sense - why would Pitch exert so much energy when she was here, all along?  
Tooth's head whipped around. "Did you know about this?" she demanded. "Did you know that Pitch was planning to attack us simultaneously?"  
"No!" The little baby tooth was shivering; Elsa brought up one hand to shield her, careful not to let her frigid skin come too close. "No, I didn't know."  
"Or maybe not simultaneously," Tooth said, her eyes widening. "What if he attacked the Pole first, knowing that we would all be distracted with your arrival, knowing that we'd want to meet to talk to you? What if he used that as his chance to strike, taking us unawares, while we're all divided... And then what if he came here, once he was done...?"  
Elsa stilled. That sounded exactly like something Pitch would do. Was that what I was? Elsa wondered. A distraction?  
The Sandman tapped Tooth on the ankle and shook his head. He spread his hands apart in a firm no motion, and Tooth bit her lip. "You're right, Sandy," she said, wringing her hands anxiously. "I know I shouldn't think like that. But what if North and Bunny... what if they're - ?"  
He looked up at her, his face set in determination. He held up one tightly-clenched fist and nodded once. Tooth squeezed her eyes together. "I know, you're right. I'm just... I'm just... " She sucked in a deep breath.  
Scared, Elsa realized, staring at Tooth's pale face. The realization shook her; somehow, naively, she had believed it wasn't possible for the Guardians to be scared.  
The Sandman patted Tooth's leg reassuringly, then turned to face the approaching darkness. He spread out his hands and his golden sand gathered beneath him, lifting him up into the air. He darted toward the wall of darkness, his sand trailing behind him like winking stars.  
"I'm going to join Sandy."  
Elsa turned back as Tooth accepted two long, curved fencing blades from her fairies. "Baby Tooth, lead Elsa back to Jack," Tooth said as she gripped the hilts tightly, her slim hands nearly hidden under the wide bells. "Without the moon to protect him, he's defenseless."  
Elsa shook her head. "Maybe I can talk to Pitch, persuade him not to fight - "  
"If he's killed North, then it's too late for negotiations!" Tooth snapped. She glanced at Elsa from the side, her violet eyes narrowed. "You need to protect Jack. If Sandy and I fall, he's our last chance."  
"Toothiana, that won't happen," Elsa said firmly. "How do you think Jack would feel if - "  
"Jack would rather see you when he wakes, not me!" Tooth cried, emotion lending a quiver to her voice. She held Elsa's gaze for a long moment. Then, abruptly, all the tension went out of her; her shoulders drooped and she slowly let out her breath in a sigh. "You're the one who can help him, Elsa," Tooth said quietly. "Not me."  
"But I don't know how," Elsa said, almost pleadingly.  
"I know you can," Tooth replied, sending her a faint smile. Then she pivoted and launched herself into the air, flying straight toward Pitch's shadows.  
Elsa watched until the Tooth Fairy's bright feathers bled into the darkness, then she turned to the little fairy on her shoulder. Baby Tooth was still shaking, but she met Elsa's gaze bravely. "Alright," Elsa said. "Lead me to Jack, Baby Tooth. I think it's time I learned out how to melt a frozen heart."


	14. The Greatest Change

Elsa knelt by Jack's side. To her right, the battle raged; Pitch's attacks boomed like thunder, and within the dark, roiling clouds of his shadows, little flares of light could be seen - the sharp, quick sparks of Toothiana's blades and the long, thin streaks of the Sandman's whips.  
"Jack." Elsa pressed her hand against his cheek. He still wasn't as cold as she was, but he didn't seem as warm as he had been last time, either.  
Baby Tooth flew from Elsa's braid to Jack's chest, squeaking all the while. The other Tooth Fairies hovered just overhead, nervously glancing toward the ominous black sky. "You're right," Elsa murmured, running her thumb over the barely-visible scratch on Jack's cheek. "He does look better." Perhaps it was the dull half-light or Jack's stillness, but Elsa could almost make herself believe that Jack was only sleeping. For a few moments it seemed as though he really would stir and open one eye, his roguish smile tugging at the corner of his lips...  
There was a distant crack like echoing thunder. The fairies up above chittered softly. Elsa pressed her hands over Jack's heart. Through the soft fabric of his hoodie, beneath the lacy trails of frost, she could feel the warmth of his skin. His heart was beating, slowly but surely. The proof that Jack was still alive, as small as it was, soothed Elsa. "Jack," she called. "Jack, wake up."  
Another boom ricocheted through the Tooth Palace, sounding closer than before. Elsa felt the tremor of it beneath her feet and she cringed. "Jack," she begged. She pushed her hand hard against his chest, willing the ice inside him to thaw. "Come back to me, Jack," she said. "Please, wake up - "  
The ground bucked beneath her, followed by a deafening explosion. Elsa was thrown across Jack's chest, her chin bumping against his shoulder. The fairies squealed in fright overhead, and Baby Tooth slowly picked herself up from where she had been pitched across the floor. Elsa lifted her head and scanned the sky. She could still see the small burst of the Guardians' light, fighting hard to pierce the shadow - but it was too much; the darkness was too heavy and too thick. It pressed towards the golden arches of the Tooth Palace at a terrifying speed, looking almost close enough to touch.  
Where are you, Pitch? Elsa's narrowed eyes searched for a sign of his thin, menacing form. Was he in the middle of that darkness somehow, driving it forward? Or was he the one fending off the attacks from Toothiana and the Sandman? But no - the shards of light weren't close enough to be focused on the same enemy. So what were the Guardians fighting? His shadow forces? Nightmares? Decoys?  
Decoys. Yes, Pitch had mentioned in their lessons long ago how useful they were. "If it is convincing enough, the enemy will believe it," he'd murmured, his eyes flickering up from the broken pieces of ice that he had easily destroyed moments before. "But for them to believe, your creation must be strong."  
Strong. And was not this wall of shadows strong enough to take on two Guardians at once?  
"Where are you, Pitch?" Elsa whispered, slowly pushing herself upright. If this attack was merely a deception, then where was Pitch, really? Was he in the rear of his forces, perhaps, manipulating Tooth and the Sandman as easily as his own natural shadows? Or was he still at the North Pole, fighting against Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny?  
Unless...  
Unless that attack, too, was a distraction. Elsa curled her fingers into the fabric of Jack's sleeves. There was another lesson Pitch had taught her - one she hadn't remembered until now, all these years later.   
"Amateur fighters prefer frontal attacks," he'd said, stretching out his arms to either side. "It's a straightforward, uncomplicated approach, and easy to execute. But there's a catch - it uses all of your strength. Even those who are confident in their abilities will prefer frontal attacks, which, although extremely powerful, leave them weak to the rear and sides."  
He'd dropped his arms, his lips curling in a sneer. "Those in large numbers make that mistake - like the Guardians. They have so much confidence in their combined abilities and prowess that they rarely think to do anything other than charge directly into battle."  
Slowly he brought his hands together, steepling them against his chest. "Now, a true master," he'd said, strolling forward, "will know his opponents' strengths and their fears. He will know them well enough to give them what they expect, while maintaining the upper hand."  
He vanished into the floor, only to appear at Elsa's left. "A shadow here, a skirmish there - just enough so that they think they're making progress." He disappeared again, this time stepping out of the shadows to the right. "He will use his cunning ways to misdirect them, only to strike where they're weakest."  
Hands had curled around Elsa's shoulders and she jumped. Pitch snorted softly, pleased, and the decoy Bogeyman faded into the darkness. "You see?" Pitch had murmured behind her. He pressed his lips under Elsa's neck, just under her jaw. "And now you're mine."  
"That's what he's doing now," Elsa whispered, her eyes widening.  
It was a distraction, then - all of it. Pitch was keeping all the Guardians occupied so he could attack their weakest point. And that was -   
"Jack," she gasped.  
Fingers of darkness darted forward from the corner of Elsa's eye, reaching for the fallen Guardian. "No!" she cried, throwing up her hands. A shield of ice exploded outward and the darkness crashed against it, veins of frost trickling through the dark like lightning. The shadows went rigid and fell, shattering against the ground in a shriek of breaking glass.  
The fairies wailed. More tendrils of darkness were coming from every direction, twisting through the open arches and writhing in a mass overhead. With a low hiss, lances of them shot down to the ground, jagged edges aiming for Jack in a cruel mimicry of Pitch's scythe.  
"You can't have him!" Elsa screamed. She stretched her arms above her, fingers spread wide. Crystals of ice bloomed like geometric flowers, spreading out and down in a flash of white. The edges crashed to the ground just as the shadows reached them, and from inside the dome Elsa could hear the piercing crack as they smashed around her.  
Elsa slowly lowered her arms and took a shuddering breath. Baby Tooth - who had flown back to Elsa's braid when she wasn't paying attention, was shivering violently. The other fairies weren't much better. Elsa's shoulders dropped as she looked from their panicked faces to Jack's, still unlined and peaceful as it was.  
She couldn't let this go on. Pitch was clearly doing everything in his power to get what he wanted - with or without Elsa's help. Pitch intended to kill Jack, even if it meant fighting all the Guardians at once. Even if it means fighting me, Elsa thought. If I hadn't been here, then Pitch would have succeeded.  
She still didn't want to fight Pitch, but obviously he didn't feel the same. I suppose he views me as an enemy now, Elsa thought. It almost made her want to cry.  
"I can't let him win," she said quietly. She stared down at Jack's face and tried to push away her feelings of regret. What Pitch was doing was wrong. She'd known that he liked to bend the rules of combat, and known all along what he was capable of. She'd been aware of the lengths that Pitch had gone to satisfy his hatred, bitterness, and distrust. Now, though, she didn't admire his cleverness and skill - she was sickened.  
Toothiana might not be strong enough to survive his attacks much longer, she thought. And the Sandman - how much more can he take? And Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny - what of them?  
And Jack ...  
Pitch's loathing for the Guardians was as deep as the sky. He wouldn't stop trying to rid the world of them - and he would never give up. But I have to try and make him give up, Elsa told herself, taking a deep breath. I have to change his mind, somehow. And if that means that I'll have to fight Pitch, then ...  
... then I'll do it.  
She pushed herself to her feet. Baby Tooth clung to a loop in Elsa's braid, her eyes wide. "I have to stop Pitch," Elsa explained softly.  
All the fairies squealed in horror, and Baby Tooth shook her head frantically. "I have to," Elsa said, clenching her hands against the tingling of her power in her fingertips. "Pitch won't listen to the Guardians, but... maybe he will listen to me."  
Baby Tooth shook her head again, protesting in high, short squeaks. "Stay with Jack," Elsa said, nudging the little fairy out of her hair and onto one hand. "Pitch is probably waiting for me to come out, and I don't want you to get hurt. My shield will protect you until I get back."  
Elsa placed the little fairy on Jack's neck. Baby Tooth was staring at her with a terrible heart-wrenching look, her chest rising and falling rapidly in time to her hyperventilated gasps.  
Elsa turned away. She took a long breath to steady herself, then stepped out into the battle.  
Immediately the shadows flew towards her, but just as suddenly they withdrew, leaving her unharmed. Elsa stared at them with a frown, then glanced back. Her dome stood amid the black clouds like white glass, as bright as the face of the moon. Serpentine trails of darkness shot toward the shield only to turn away at the last moment. The ground was littered with shards of twisted white and grey shadows - casualties of the assault against her defenses.  
But Pitch himself was nowhere to be seen.  
"I'm here," Elsa called. She was sure that wherever Pitch was, whether he was at the center of the maelstrom of his attack, or only hiding in a nearby shadow, he could hear her. He would come. She knew it. "Pitch," she said. "Speak to me. You don't have to do this."  
The moments passed slowly, painfully. Elsa stared into the black oblivion that was Pitch's darkness, sure that any second a darker form would detach himself and rise, smirking, before her. But the longer she watched, the more she realized that she couldn't see the light of the Guardians' battle. When had they stopped? And where was Tooth and the Sandman? Were they alright? Elsa stared into the blackness, straining to see any spark, small as it was -   
But there was nothing.  
"Pitch!" Elsa cried. He had to be here. He wouldn't lose the chance to see his victory through in person.   
But if this wasn't where he intended his victory to take place...  
Elsa looked back at the ice shield she had made. The shadows still barreled toward it, pointed black blades outstretched. Just before impact they swerved away, only to double back with the same ferocity as before. Pitch is too clever a tactician to keep trying the same attack once it's failed, she thought, watching as the shadows swooped around for another attempt. His darkness has learned that it cannot defeat my eyes, but never have I seen it appear so mindless before. Surely after seeing this, Pitch would have changed his attack strategy...  
...unless he isn't here to witness it.  
Another decoy! The electric hum of her powers spiked and Elsa gasped. She clutched her upper arms, twisting her head away in vain to search the skies and the tower for any sign of Pitch -  
A glimmer of light caught her eye and Elsa hurried toward it. The snow globe. She scooped it from the ground, cradling it in both hands. This snow globe had brought her to the Tooth Palace from Pitch's caverns, and now it would take her back. If the attack on the North Pole is driven by the same shadows that are attacking here, then there's only one other place Pitch might be. Elsa's fingers tightened around the intricate gold base of the globe. And I have to go there to stop him.  
"To Pitch's lair!" she shouted.  
Light burst around her, nearly blinding her. Elsa reached up to cover her eyes, but as the ground dropped from under her, the snow globe slipped from her hands. She fumbled for it, but it was already gone - lost in the transport spell in between one place or the next, or maybe even left on the floor of the Tooth Palace. Elsa braced herself for another ungraceful landing and squeezed her eyes shut -   
The broken floor came up gently under her feet. A hand pressed against the small of her back, keeping her upright. The world spun for several long seconds, and when Elsa had begun to feel like her balance had returned, the hand withdrew. She opened her eyes. The world was still dark - but no, that was how it was supposed to be. She was back in Pitch's underground caverns again.  
Pitch. Elsa turned. He was standing a little ways back, his face neutral as his eyes glowed at her through the darkness. "So you've returned," he observed.  
Her eyes narrowed. Pitch's smooth way of speaking only infuriated her. "Call off the attack!" she ordered.  
A faint smile tipped the corner of his lips up. "Do you know how difficult it is to command two separate forces of shadow remotely, from my mind? It's very taxing, believe me."  
She flicked her long train behind her and took a step forward. "Then why would you do it, just to kill Jack?"  
"I didn't do it for Jack Frost." Pitch shut his eyes and slowly let out his breath. He straightened as he inhaled, and the darkness around him grew deeper, richer. There seemed more life to his ashy skin than before, and when he opened his eyes, they burned like molten gold. "There," he purred, "now I can say it with all of myself: welcome back, Elsa."  
He did it for me, Elsa realized in horror, her mouth falling open. For me.  
It all made sense: the attacks on the divided Guardians, which distracted them from her - the way his shadows shied away from intentionally harming Elsa, leaving her unscathed - Pitch's willingness to stop his assault the moment she arrived -  
Her words were whip-fast. "You tricked me," she accused. "How could you? And how could you trick the Guardians like that?"  
"Trick? No, I didn't trick you." He gave her a doubtful look. "And why are you concerned about the Guardians? I hope you haven't begun to sympathize with them."  
"I do sympathize with them - "  
He cut her off with a scoff. "You were hardly with them for more than a few hours. What of the years you spent with me, in the shadows looking in? Is this how you would repay my loyalty and concern - by going over to their side?"  
She shook her head. "I'm not on anyone's side, I just - " She sucked in her breath and when she spoke again it was in a soft, level tone. "There are just some things that Toothiana says that seem right... and there are things that you've done that aren't."  
He let out a bark of derisive laughter. "Oh, so you've decided to be critical of me now, have you? I suppose I'm not surprised - the Guardians love to spout their self-righteous drivel, and now they've taught you their tune."  
"I was always critical," she said, looking him in the eye. "I was never happy with the ways you haunted children and ruined their dreams. I was never pleased with your malicious ways and deceptions while teaching me how to control my powers. And now I know that you've manipulated me three times now in your terrible vendetta against the Guardians, and after everything, you've never once told me the truth!"  
"More lies from the Guardians," he said dismissively. "I will tell you one last time, Elsa - I have never lied to you."  
"No, but you haven't told me the whole truth!"  
"In what way?"  
"Because you keep secrets from me about your past!" she cried.  
Pitch's eyes widened and he went utterly still. "What do you mean?" he asked, but his voice had gone very soft.  
Elsa slowly let out her breath. She motioned to him helplessly. "Pitch... you know everything about my past, but I know nothing about yours. When Jack came here and you two argued, he alluded to your history several times."  
Pitch turned away. He didn't reply.  
"Jack said, 'have you told her yet,'" Elsa said, taking a careful step forward. "Jack... whatever happened, he knows. The other Guardians know, but I... " She trailed off, gazing at the side of his face. "Pitch, you haven't told me anything."  
"Because you do not need to know," he muttered.  
"I do."  
He was silent.  
"Pitch," she pleaded.  
He still didn't turn her way. He was still as a shadow and just as expressionless.   
"Pitch, please." She reached out to touch him -  
He lifted his arm out of her reach. "If I tell you," he said quietly, "you will wish you had never asked."  
"I don't care," she said, staring beseechingly at him. "Please."  
He said nothing.  
"Tell me," she whispered, pouring all of her longing into those two words. Pitch, open up to me. Trust me. I won't despise you, just - give me the chance to know. "Please."  
Finally Pitch turned. His face was carefully set in a neutral expression, but Elsa could see something heavy in his eyes - the lingering of old ghosts, perhaps. "Fine," he said, and his voice was flat and emotionless. "I'll tell you.  
"Before the soul of the Earth drew breath, beyond the reaches of the light of distant stars, there was a golden empire. And the ruler of this vast and glorious civilization was the Tsar Lunar.  
"The royal family possessed a mighty army, fearless and strong. I was asked to be their commander."  
Elsa listened silently. Pitch never looked away and never changed the rhythm of his speech. If he was trying to unnerve her or make her uncomfortable, then he wouldn't succeed; after going for so long without the truth, she would endure his subtle efforts at intimidation.  
Pitch continued. "We had captured the forces of a terrible enemy - Fearlings, born of shadow and wreathed in darkness. Much had been lost in the battle to capture them, and in my anger, I volunteered to guard them.  
"Every day they called out to me, for years and centuries, pleading to be freed. They promised me power, glory, and the strength to shape the universe. They threatened me, then appealed to my empathy. Sometimes their words came as gentle whispers, then at other times as a poisonous hiss. They tried to lure my help in any way, using any means they could.  
"And then they called out to me with my daughter's voice."  
Elsa gasped softly.  
Pitch paused. After a few moments, he went on. "So then I opened the door. The Fearlings surrounded me, rejoicing in their success. Their shadow flesh absorbed into my skin and their will bonded with my own, though I kept my mind. They fought to possess me but I prevailed, and their submission added their fortitude to my own.  
"I constructed a galleon on nightmares and sailed across the sea of galaxies, destroying everything in my path," he said. His words were so matter-of-fact that Elsa felt a shiver travel down her spine.   
"Finally I came to the Lunar Court. I slit the throats of the King and Queen, but their child escaped. In the ensuing chase my ship crashed onto Earth, forever separating me from the last living child of light. He's there still, taunting me from the exile of his own botched landing on the moon.  
"And so now I wait, the Lord High General, forever displaced from my earned triumph. Every attempt I've made to destroy the final remaining light has been constantly confounded by the pathetic, weak, and insolent Guardians." Pitch's voice turned scathing and bitter, his emotions finally coming through at last.  
Elsa didn't respond. She had watched him while he spoke, and had assumed his cold detachment was part of an effort to make her regret she'd asked, and as a means to separate himself from his past. But now, as Pitch's face smoothed back into the dispassionate mask, she knew neither assumption had been precisely true. It was simply a show, she thought. Pitch may wish that he doesn't care what happened in the past, but he still does.  
She remembered the pause after he mentioned his daughter - as if he needed to stop for a moment to collect himself. And when he spoke, his lifeless words were only the smallest shadow compared to the gulf of black anguish that lay beneath.  
It's like me, she thought. Every time I talk about my past to Jack, I tried to stop myself from showing my pain but it spilled out despite my efforts. I went so far to escape my misery - even erased all my memories - but it was still there, underneath it all, buried in my mind. There's no way to rid yourself of that sadness. I know that now.  
And Pitch... what has he done to try and forget?  
His daughter. Elsa shut her eyes. Pitch said he killed everyone in his way. What if she was... what if he actually killed... ?  
Oh, Pitch. She pressed her lips together, forcing down the lump that was threatening to choke her. What sort of people are we? I killed my sister, and you... you murdered your own child.  
"See?" Pitch said liltingly, and Elsa's eyes flew open. He was looking at her, his mouth twisted in a knowing, ironic smile. "You have nothing to say. Didn't I tell you that you'd regret asking the question?"  
Her voice came out sounding strangled. "Pitch... "  
I'm sorry, she wanted to say. Pitch, I'm so, so sorry - but the words meant nothing, absolutely nothing. None of Jack's words, no matter how kind or well-meant or sympathetic, had ever had the power to comfort her. And though Elsa thought she understood Pitch's hidden anguish better than anyone else possibly could, she knew that her heartfelt words wouldn't make a shred of difference.  
Pitch was still looking at her, as if he was daring her to speak. Elsa swallowed hard. "I... I understand now," she rasped. "I understand why you sought me out after I froze my kingdom, and after I froze Anna. I understand why you keep coming back to me now."  
His gold eyes narrowed. "That," he said sharply, "is not the reason."  
"But it is a part of it," she said quietly. "Pitch... you have a wound that will never heal. I have one as well. That makes it a shared misery. I didn't know it, but all along we've been grieving - together."  
Pitch glowered at her.  
"I remember what Jack said, just before you fought. He said, 'it isn't your fault. You aren't to blame.'" Elsa shook her head. "Pitch, you've suffered for centuries and centuries, but... I think Jack was right. It may have been your hands that struck the final blow, but you aren't to blame."  
"Didn't you hear a single word I said?" Pitch demanded angrily. "The Fearlings' will was mine."  
"She wouldn't have blamed you," Elsa said softly.  
"You know nothing about her!" he roared.  
"No. I don't. But if your daughter was anything like Anna... " She blinked quickly against the tears that pricked her eyes. "... then ... then she wouldn't have wanted that. She would have wanted you to forgive yourself."  
He scoffed. "Forgiveness is for idealists. Dreamers," he said harshly.  
Elsa looked down at her hands. "Maybe that's why they're gone. They were too good, too kind. Now we're the only ones that are left."  
"Convenient," Pitch said. He had slipped his emotionless mask into place again, and it hurt Elsa to see it. "That leaves us the world to rule."  
"No," she said. "Fighting for control and power, forgetting my own memories - that's just a way to distract us from the grief."  
What the lost ones would want, Elsa thought, is for us to move on. And the way to do that is...  
"You've known how, all along." Toothiana's words came back to her, soft with remembered emotion. "It's love."  
And Anna had written, "the best I can give you is a promise that I will try and understand... I promise I'll try not to fight your decision...  
I love you, Elsa."  
"Love," Elsa whispered.  
Pitch drew back. He looked appalled. "Love?" he mocked. "I don't love anything."  
"I loved my sister. But now... I'm not sure if I can love anything, either." She turned her hands over and stared at her palms. "Toothiana said that fear took the place of my love, and she's right - I can't love anyone, or know what love is. Not the way I am now."  
"Not so easy then, is it?" he sniffed.  
"No," she admitted. "But maybe my heart can change. I turned myself into this, so maybe... " She gently closed her hands. "As I move on, my heart will change. And maybe when that happens, then I can love... "  
"Who?" he demanded. "Jack Frost?"  
"Me," she murmured.  
Pitch's eyebrows rose in surprise.  
"I was always afraid," Elsa realized, talking it through out loud. "I was afraid of my powers, afraid of myself - but I'd forgotten. All these years since, I've been so horrified at what I'd done, and scared of what I could still do...  
"But I didn't have to be." Elsa felt the corners of her lips turning up in a smile, even as tears filled her eyes. "Anna - Anna was never afraid of me, even after she found out about my abilities. She always accepted me, no matter how many times I pushed her away or shut her out. she loved me. And I... now I have to learn how to do that for myself."  
"Don't fool yourself, Elsa." Pitch's eyes were cold. "Your sister had no idea what you were capable of."  
"Perhaps, but she still would have accepted me - especially when I didn't accept myself."  
"But what isn't to accept?" Pitch opened his arms wide. "With powers like yours, Elsa, you can do so much. I have never been prouder of who I am, and what I am."  
Without giving herself a chance to think the question through, she asked, "then why do you use your own darkness to numb the pain?"  
Pitch's eyes widened, his entire body going rigid.  
"You are, aren't you?" Elsa asked, her voice softer than before. "The darkness... it's effective. A release. I know, Pitch - it's a relief not to hurt, not to remember. I was glad, at first, but... it's just a half life."  
Elsa remembered how blissful the darkness was - how it soothed her when she tormented herself with her inability to remember Anna. She was free, it seemed - set loose from the chains of her despair. She'd wanted the anesthesia to last forever.  
But she couldn't live that way, now.  
"You're condemning yourself to a life of vanishing memories and bitter sorrow," she said.  
Pitch Black held her gaze. "It is an existence I've chosen," he said, his voice terribly soft and almost... resigned.  
"No, it doesn't have to be." Elsa held out her hand to him. "Pitch, come with me. We can recover together. You don't have to stay forever in the shadows. You're... you're redeemable. Just like me."  
Her voice cracked on the last word. I am, she thought. I'm not evil. I'm not as good a person as Anna was, but I can live with her as my inspiration. I can live for us both. I can be a good person, too.  
I am a good person.  
"Pitch." Elsa stepped forward, reaching out with both arms. "You can change. We both can."  
"No!" Pitch skipped back, as if her skin would burn him. "Don't touch me!"  
"But - "  
"The darkness is all I've ever known," he said roughly, looking away. "It's all I've ever wanted and needed. I would rather feel nothing than everything."  
Elsa slowly dropped her arms. "It will be difficult," she said quietly. Every day, for the rest of her life, Elsa knew she would miss Anna. "But that's why the memories are so important."  
"I should have known that this would happen," Pitch growled. "I should have known you would turn to the light, that you would be the destruction of all my plans, all my aspirations." His hands clenched into fists. "I didn't give you enough credit; it seems you learned far more from my lessons than I supposed."  
He let out his breath in a short, caustic laugh. "You really are deserving of your name, highness. The Snow Queen. How deftly you turn your words into blades that bury deep as ice, striking the most fragile part of the soul."  
Elsa stared at him. Highness, he'd said. "Pitch, that wasn't... "  
"We could have ruled this world," he whispered, and Elsa froze. Pitch shook his head. "I see now that my weakness for you was simply that - a weakness."  
Elsa swallowed hard. "Pitch... "  
He turned his back on her. "Get out."  
No, she thought. Please... "Pitch - "  
"Get out!" he screamed, whipping back around with his fiercest glare. "Go to your precious Jack Frost, but leave me in peace! I never want to see you in my domain again!"  
Elsa's eyes burned. She blinked the sensation away and two tears slipped down her cheek. "But I... Pitch - "  
"I don't need your love, your mercy, or your kindness!" He threw out his arm furiously, and Elsa winced as streaks of darkness flew past her. "I have never needed them! Never come here again!"  
Elsa took a step backwards. Pitch's face was too terrible to look at directly, so she turned her eyes to the hem of his long coat. "Alright," she said softly. "Alright. I'll go."  
With a delicate wave of her hand, Elsa created a long staircase up to the opening in the ceiling. Pitch said nothing as she began to climb, but she could hear his angry, heaving breaths hissing out in the stale air.  
Halfway to the top, Elsa paused and looked back. Pitch was still looking at her, but his mask had returned; his eyes were unfeeling and his mouth was fixed in a straight line.  
"If you ever want to talk," Elsa said, remembering Anna's sweet voice, "then... then I'm here, Pitch."  
The Bogeyman's blank expression flickered, but he didn't respond. Instead he deliberately turned and walked away, vanishing into the shadows.  
Elsa shut her eyes. She smeared away her tears with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. "Goodbye, Pitch," she whispered. Then she looked up, toward the light filtering down from the outside world, and continued to climb.


	15. A Tale of No More Partings

The sun was sinking beneath the trees. The aged light streamed between the branches in a final effort to illuminate the world before night stole the sky. Elsa watched the dappled shadows as the wind stirred the fallen leaves. Autumn was almost over; most of the trees were bare now, the once-green leaves now curled and brown beneath her feet. Elsa gathered her delicate train in her arms and glanced around at the forest. A few birds were singing, but they sounded far away.  
"If only I had the snow globe," she murmured. She had no idea how to get to the Tooth Palace, or even where it was located. She remembered distant mountains and the humid heat, and the architecture placed it as vaguely eastern, so... perhaps Asia, somewhere?  
Jamie. Jack's friend, the human boy. He lived nearby - just in the next town. He knows all about the Guardians. Jamie will know how to get to the Tooth Palace. Reassured, Elsa began walking again. She trailed her hand along the tree trunks as she passed, leaving behind a sparkle of silver frost.  
I wonder if Toothiana and the Sandman are alright, she thought. Surely I was not too late to reach Pitch that they still had a chance to win their freedom? And Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny... I suppose they fought Pitch's decoys for far longer. Could they really have fallen? The darkness would have been overwhelming, but surely it wouldn't have been enough to defeat them..  
"I hope everyone is alright," she murmured. She could see the lake between the trees, the surface sparkling as the small waves caught the sun. I think they're alright, she told herself, following the edge of the water. They're the Guardians, after all. Everyone will be all -   
"Elsa!"  
Elsa stopped short. "Jack," she whispered. She spun around, her braid flying out behind her. She searched the trees, but she couldn't see him. "Jack!" she cried, her heart pounding in her ears. She couldn't have imagined him, she just couldn't have -   
"Elsa!" His voice was behind her now. Elsa whipped back around in time to see Jack Frost land awkwardly in a pile of leaves. He staggered to his feet as the leaves crackled and crunched beneath him. "Elsa!" he cried, sprinting toward her. He dropped his staff, and Elsa barely had time to open her arms before he collided into her.  
"Jack!" She could hardly breathe, he was holding her so tight - but she didn't care. "It's you."  
He was so thin - had he always been that way? - yet he seemed so solid, and less wraith-like than she would have imagined, especially since he had been so close to death. It hadn't actually been very long since she had seen him, alive and with that ever-present smile, but somehow it felt like ages. I've forgotten things about him, she thought, inhaling slowly. Jack's hair and clothes smelled like the wind and the first frost of winter - a wildness that was Jack's and Jack's alone. How could I have forgotten? Elsa wondered, burying her face in his neck.  
"I'm glad I found you." Jack's relieved sigh was a sharp contrast to the almost vise-like grip of his arms around her ribs. "I'm so glad you're safe."  
Elsa burrowed her hands under the folds of his hood. She could feel his chest rise and fall under her arms. "You're here," she whispered, curling her fingers into the frost-laced fabric. "You're here. Jack... you came back."  
Jack leaned away from her. "Of course I did," he said, looking into her face. "I'll always come back for..." Then his expression changed. "You've been crying."  
She looked away from his searching blue eyes. "Yes." She hesitated, wondering if she was ready to explain what had happened. "I... "  
His hands tightened around her waist. "Was it Pitch?"  
Yes, but - no, it wasn't... The words wouldn't come, and she swallowed. He just... he only...  
Jack took her silence as confirmation. His arms tightened around her briefly and then he broke away to stride purposefully toward Pitch's cave.  
"No, Jack!" Elsa caught his sleeve between two fingers. "Listen to me, Pitch isn't - "  
Jack stopped. He glanced back at her from over his shoulder, and Elsa's hand squeezed his sleeve.  
"He won't hurt me," Elsa said quietly. She blinked up into Jack's eyes, hoping he would understand. "He won't, Jack, not now."  
Jack's eyes narrowed. "Won't?" he echoed dubiously. "But how do you know he won't change his mind?"  
She shook her head. "He might, but I just don't think..." She remembered the hurt in Pitch's voice, the realization in his eyes, the way he had turned away so brusquely. "He won't come looking for me," Elsa said gently. "Not anymore."  
Jack blinked at her, and then her words seemed to sink in. "So... you talked to him?"  
She nodded.  
"And he doesn't want... he won't... ?"  
"No," she said quietly. "Maybe not ever again."  
His face softened, but there were little strain lines around his eyes. Perhaps Jack understood a little of what she was trying to say. "Oh," he said.  
Elsa looked at Jack, really looked at him. Then a shy smile began to pull at her mouth. She tugged on Jack's arm, slowly drawing him to her. When he was close enough, she lifted her hand to cradle his cheek. We're the same temperature, she sighed inwardly, and her smile brightened.  
"You're here," she said again softly.  
"Yeah." He closed the distance between them and reached up to curl one hand under her ear. He leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. "I'm here," he murmured.  
"How?" she whispered, her voice more air than sound. "There was... I put ice in your heart... "  
He shrugged. "I woke up."  
Elsa blinked. "You woke... ?"  
Toothiana had said that Elsa needed to let love into her own heart - that she needed to commit an act of true love. I don't understand, Elsa thought. I didn't do anything to prove I loved Jack, so how did he... ?  
No. It was me. Elsa thought back to her conversation with Pitch. Hadn't she begged him to forgive himself, to accept himself, and change? It was me, Elsa realized. I recognized that I was a good person. I accepted myself, I forgave myself, and I've begun to move on -  
I melted the ice in my own heart.  
"An act of true love," Elsa murmured. "Love... for myself."  
Jack smiled crookedly. "They say that love thaws."  
"It does. Now when I think of Anna, I don't feel pain. I feel... peace." She pulled her hand away from his and pressed it over his heart. "Here. Right here."  
"I think she would be happy to hear that," Jack said. He covered his hand with hers.  
"Me too," she whispered.  
They stood that way for a while. Jack's thumb drew lazy circles below her earlobe and Elsa inhaled the scent of his wintry skin, listening to him breathe.  
"I'm glad you're alright," she said.  
"The first thing I heard when I woke was your voice," he said, tilting his head a little to look at her.  
"Mine?"  
"Yeah. You were calling my name." He lifted one shoulder. "And then I woke up and everything was crazy."  
"The battle." Elsa jerked back. "Jack, what about Toothiana and the Sandman? Are they alright?"  
"Oh yeah. Them? Tooth's tougher than she looks and Sandy's really - I mean, the guy came back from the dead, so he's pretty much unstoppable."  
She smiled at the teasing tone in his voice. I missed this side of you, Jack. "So you spoke to them?"  
"Yeah. I mean, it took a minute to figure out what was going on; it looked like a bunch of Pitch's shadows were disappearing, and then your ice was dissolving, and Baby Tooth was going ballistic - then Tooth and Sandy went ballistic... " He smirked at the surprise on Elsa's face. "So yeah. They're good."  
"And then what happened?"  
"We figured that you'd decided to come to Pitch's place to deal with him yourself," Jack said, "so I came to back you up. Tooth and Sandy were worried about North and Bunny, so they used the snow globe to open up a way here, then they were gonna go straight to the North Pole. And when we were done... "  
"... what?" Elsa asked when Jack hesitated.  
He glanced at her. "When we were done, we were supposed to meet them back there - in Santa's Workshop. They wanna talk to you."  
Automatically, Elsa froze. Toothiana was kind and the Sandman seemed very genial, but what about the other two? The Easter Bunny, and - and Santa Claus himself?  
Jack pulled her close. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "It's probably just Guardian stuff, anyway."  
But all of the Guardians at once? And speaking... to her? Does Santa Claus still remember what I did? she wondered, what I almost did? And the Easter Bunny - what of him? Pitch said he mostly kept to himself, but Pitch also hated his cleverness and his tunnels, and that he was Santa Claus's closest friend and ally...  
No. She shook herself. Toothiana and the Sandman weren't as intimidating or mean as Pitch led me to believe. Maybe Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny aren't, either?  
"Okay." Elsa forced some courage into her voice. She smiled bravely at Jack. "Okay. I'll go."  
He smiled back. "I'll be with you, so you won't have to worry."  
She nodded. "I know."  
"Alright. We'll have to fly." He led her back to where he'd dropped his staff and hooked it up into the air with his foot. "You okay with that?" he asked, resting the crook over his shoulder.  
"I will be." She remembered what he'd said to her the last time they flew, and her smile widened. "I'll get used to it."  
Jack only grinned.

Hours later, Jack landed them lightly on a windowsill outside the ice-encrusted fortress that was the North Pole. Elsa stared up at the forbidding walls that loomed above her. The Tooth Palace had been stunning in its own way, but in contrast the North Pole was downright intimidating. Elsa tightened her hold on Jack, her anxiety coming back to her in a rush.  
"Feeling dizzy?" Jack smiled sympathetically at her. "Sorry about that. Sometimes I like to fly too fast." He tapped the end of his staff against the window and it cracked it open.  
"No, it wasn't you," Elsa said, forcing down the involuntary shiver that traveled down her spine. Jack pulled open one pane then another before lowering Elsa into the room. Then he hopped down after her and pulled the window closed.  
It was warm inside, and Elsa couldn't help looking around as Jack led her down the hall. The ceiling was high and peaked, with thick wooden crossbeams providing support for the apex. There were carvings of angular flowers and simple geometric patterns in the posts and railings, and the dark coloring reminded her of the corridors in the castle of Arendelle.  
Then the hall turned into an open, domed common area, and Elsa stumbled in surprise. There were floors above and floors below, each buzzing with activity. Light filtered down from the panels of light near the ceiling, illuminating the flying, marching, beeping, flailing, chirping, dancing toys that fought for attention. And beside them were the Yetis - painting, tinkering, prodding, fixing, and jotting down notes for the toys. Some were even running errands, and as they passed Elsa, they turned to raise their bushy eyebrows at her. Elsa pressed closer to Jack, trying to attract as little attention as possible.  
Then Jack let out a shout of delighted surprise. Elsa looked up, starting as Jack greeted one Yeti with a high-five. "Hey, Phil!" he said casually. "How's it going?"  
Phil rolled his shoulders back, groaning wordlessly.  
"North in his workroom?"  
The Yeti growled back and nodded affirmatively. Then he pointed to Elsa.  
"Phil, Elsa. Elsa, Phil," Jack said without slowing. "Sorry big guy - we'll get you a better introduction later."  
Phil waved them away with a massive hand, his eyes lingering on Elsa as he turned away.  
"You know a Yeti?" Elsa asked in a low voice after they'd left Phil behind.  
"Oh yeah, we go way back." He looked back at her from over his shoulder. "You'll see him later, I'm sure."  
"Later?" she echoed.  
"Well, yeah. After we go see North. His workroom is right up here."  
Elsa's stomach flipped apprehensively. She bit her lip and glanced away, trying to think of anything else but the leader of the Guardians. Her eyes fell on what she only assumed were elves - but they weren't making toys. She watched in confusion as a group of them wrapped one of their brethren in the string of a flashing red yo-yo and then sent him bouncing across the floor.  
"I thought..." she commented slowly, glancing over her shoulder at them as Jack pulled her along. "Aren't the elves the ones who... ?"  
"Make the toys?" Jack guessed. He chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I thought at first, too. Here we are."  
Elsa whirled around to look. Tall wooden doors stood before them, intricately carved and fearsome-looking. Elsa sucked in her breath, her chest tightening in panic. No, not yet. We can't be here already -  
Jack strode toward the massive doors, but Elsa's feet refused to move. She pulled their arms taunt and Jack stopped to look back at her. His inquisitive look vanished at the sight of her, and Elsa dropped her gaze embarrassedly.  
Wordlessly Jack came back to stand before her. Elsa took a deep, shaking breath. "Jack - " She covered his hand with both of hers and squeezed hard. "Don't leave me in there," she begged softly.  
He took another step closer and reached around to gently rub her shoulder blades. "I won't."  
But what if... what if they... ? Elsa squeezed his hands tighter.  
Jack pressed his lips against her temple. "I won't leave you, Elsa," he said firmly.  
Elsa nodded once, still staring at their hands. Jack pulled away with a soft chuckle. "They'll love you," he said. "You'll see."  
Her eyes flickered up to his, and Jack grinned. That teased a small smile onto Elsa's face, and she nodded again. "Alright."  
"Okay." He walked backwards toward the door, grinning at Elsa all the while. "Be ready," he warned. "North can go a little overboard, so you can expect - "  
Suddenly the doors slammed open and Santa Claus himself appeared, his arms spread wide. Jack jumped, barely managing to swallow his expletive in time. "Holy - !"  
"And there you are!" Santa roared, an enormous smile spreading across his face. "We have been waiting and waiting - but now, you are here!" He stepped forward and enveloped both Jack and Elsa in a big hug. "You make my heart so very happy."  
"Yeah, okay, we get it!" Jack protested. "Put us down before you crush Elsa!"  
"Oh!" Santa Claus put them lightly down and turned to Elsa. "Sometimes I am so excited I do not realize - are you hurt?"  
"No." She was a little shaken, but he was looking at her with such earnest concern that she couldn't help but feel touched. "No, I'm fine."  
"Good." He stuck out his hand for a shake. "Let us be official: I am Nicholas St. North. Also known as Santa Claus, but that is only details. To you, I am North."  
"North." Elsa smiled. She clasped his hand, and his fingers curled around hers. She felt so small in his great, warm hand. "My name is Elsa."  
"Elsa. Yes." He leaned in, as if to whisper a secret. "You," he confided, "Are exactly what I hoped you'd be. I am happy for meeting you."  
She blushed under his gaze. "Thank you."  
"He must really be excited," Jack muttered. "I haven't heard him say he's this happy since last Christmas."  
North stood, releasing her. "And welcome," he said, "to the North Pole." He stood back, revealing the three other Guardians. The Sandman was smiling next to an enormous grey and white rabbit, who was looking at Elsa appraisingly. But next to him was -   
"Elsa!" Tooth threw herself at Elsa, wrapping her in a swift hug. "Oh, I'm so glad that you're alright! When my fairies told me you decided to go take on Pitch all by yourself, I got so worried!"  
Baby Tooth squealed in agreement, her little arms clutching Elsa's braid in a mimicry of her mistress.  
"I'm alright," Elsa said breathlessly.  
Tooth pulled back to look searchingly in her face. "I hope you gave the Bogeyman a thorough talking-to from all of us!"  
Elsa summoned up a little smile. "I did."  
"Good!" Tooth gave her another quick hug and smiled at Jack. "I'm glad you both are okay."  
"Never better," Jack said.  
"Yeah, and no wonder there." The Easter Bunny took Toothiana's place in front of Elsa and hunched down to look her in the eye. "So you're the Snow Queen that Frost's been yabberin' about."  
"Elsa," Elsa said. She gazed at the dark markings across his cheeks and forehead, and the rabbit's mouth quirked up.  
"Well," he said. "I know my manners when it comes to royalty, even if these fruit loops don't." He bent his head, ignoring Jack's groan. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, little lady."  
"I'm honored," she replied, nodding in return.  
When Bunny raised his head, he was grinning mischievously. "Maybe it's just that you're both winter spirits and all, but you look a little similar. Are you and Frost kin? Like, say... cousins?"  
"Hey!" Jack exclaimed hotly. "I told you - "  
"You guys even smell kinda the same." He wiggled his eyebrows at Elsa. The look on his face was so funny that she couldn't help but laugh.  
"Hey!" Jack said again, but he sounded less angry than before. "Knock it off, Bunny."  
"Yes, make the jokes later. Tooth has brought up good point." North gestured to Elsa. "Elsa, all of us Guardians, we wonder same thing: what did you say to stop Pitch Black?"  
Everyone turned to look at her, and Elsa blinked. "Oh. I... I asked... " She dropped her gaze shyly and Jack's hand tightened around her. "I asked... Pitch to step out of the darkness and change," she said quietly.  
The others stared at her in stunned silence. Elsa kept her eyes on the worn floorboards. "He refused," she added. "He told me never to return."  
For a long moment, no one spoke. Then North stepped forward and laid a hand on Elsa's shoulder. "Pitch Black may never change," he said gently, "but I think he will remember that you gave him the chance."  
"That's right." Tooth nodded at her. "And besides, you changed, Elsa. That's what counts."  
"Though if we ever wanna derail Pitch in his tracks," the Easter Bunny said wryly, "then we'll get you to help us out."  
The others laughed. Elsa smiled faintly and Jack rubbed a hand across her shoulders silently.  
"You have done good job," North said musingly, reaching up to stroke his beard. "Tell me, Elsa - what will you do, now that your heart is no longer ice?"  
"I suppose I will... live." She looked up into North's twinkling eyes. "I want to live out of the shadows. I want my powers to bring happiness, not fear. I just want... to live."  
The words sounded silly in her ears, and she ducked her head in embarrassment.  
"I think she should come with me." Jack glanced sideways at her with a smile. "I mean, I make kids happy every day. Elsa can help me with the giving-kids-fun part. She'd be great at it."  
Toothiana grinned knowingly. "I didn't know that the Guardian of Fun needed an assistant."  
"Sounds more like an accomplice to me," Bunny said dryly.  
"Hey now - two's better than one, right? Who doesn't like double fun?" Jack turned to grin at Elsa, and she smiled back.  
A giant thumbs-up sign appeared over the Sandman's head, and Toothiana nodded. "I agree with Sandy - Elsa needs some more fun in her life, and we can always depend on Jack to make that happen," she said, giving him a knowing look.  
"It's what I do," he said smugly.  
North shrugged. "I do not see problem why not. Elsa is no Guardian, but does not mean she cannot be with Guardians." He glanced at Jack and then at Elsa. "Because, Elsa, you are part of family, now."  
Elsa swallowed hard. She looked from North to Toothiana, then to the Sandman and Bunny - and they were all smiling at her so fondly, as if she really was a long-lost family member only just returned home. Her vision began to blur and she struggled to articulate the surge of amazement and joy and relief that was filling her, making it hard to speak. "I... you really... ?" She swallowed again. "All of you are so... I ... thank you."  
They all smiled.  
"And speaking of families, I've been thinking... " Jack's arm tightened around Elsa, a silent show of support. "She gets to spend holidays with us, right?"  
"Other than when we're busy climbing down every chimney in world - " North began.  
"Yeah, yeah, you know what I mean." Jack cut him off. "My point is, how many Christmases has Elsa missed? Aren't there a ton of backdated presents that you owe her now?"  
Tooth laughed as North's face went slack in astonishment. "He's got a point, North!" she called.  
"Wasn't she technically on the Naughty List?" Bunny asked.  
North crossed his arms in thought. "Is tough call," he commented. "She did not do half things Jack did to get on Naughty List, but now he is on Nice List... "  
"Sometimes," Bunny corrected him.  
North pouted out his bottom lip and shrugged. "I will put her on Nice List. But you can argue as I eat hot chocolate and cookies."  
The Sandman beamed. "Only if my cookie looks like a painted egg," Bunny warned, following Sandy out of the workroom and up a flight of stairs.  
"No promises," North said with a grin.  
Baby Tooth squeaked excitedly and followed Tooth out the door. "Isn't it a little too early in the year for hot chocolate and cookies?" she teased North.  
"Is never too early for chocolate and cookies," North said with a chuckle. He started to trail after Tooth but stopped when he noticed Jack and Elsa still standing just inside the workroom door. "Are you coming?"  
"Yeah, in a minute," Jack said.  
North bobbed his shoulders, as if to say your loss if cookies are all eaten, and then stomped away up the stairs.  
"Well?" Jack murmured, glancing at Elsa.  
"They're all so kind." Her tears were nearly gone, but she still felt warm inside, the memory of North's words still resonating inside her head. "I was worried, but... thank you for bringing me, Jack."  
"Yeah, they're alright, aren't they?" he said airily and her smile widened.  
"They're wonderful."  
"See? I told you they'd love you."  
They did. It baffled Elsa a little when she thought about it; the Guardians had barely known her, but they sincerely cared for her, right from the start. I want to be able to do that, she thought. Loving someone - even herself - had been such a hard thing, but for the Guardians, it was simple. I want to be able to show my love easily as well.  
And I want to say the words someday, without any doubts in my mind.  
"Thank you, Jack." She turned to him, pouring every ounce of her emotion into the words. "Thank you for reaching out to me, and staying with me, and for wanting to help me through my shadows. Thank you for always believing in me."  
Jack smiled. He pressed his lips against her cheek. "I won't leave you, Elsa," he murmured, his breath soft on her skin. "I never will."  
It was exactly what he said to her before, but this time it sounded like a promise. He'll stay by me, Elsa thought. No matter how long the years, through everything that still may come...  
Forever. He'll be with me.  
"Jack... " Elsa gently placed her hand along his jaw and turned him to face her. "Thank you," she murmured. She tilted her head, her eyes fluttering closed as she pressed her lips against his.  
Jack inhaled sharply. He leaned into her, his hand strong against her back as he kissed her in return. Elsa's fingers curled into his hair as Jack's other hand fisted in her train, pulling her closer against him.  
Finally Jack pulled back with a sigh. He was breathing hard and Elsa, her hands braced on either side of his head, wasn't much better. He pressed his forehead against hers and slowly let out his breath, and Elsa smiled as it tickled her throat.   
"Whoa," Jack breathed. "Okay." His eyes flickered away, toward the open doors, and Elsa followed his glance. The constant flurry of Christmas preparations still continued, and as she watched, a yo-yo-wrapped elf rolled across the doorway, followed by a crowd of his friends. One of the Yetis had paused in his work to lean within viewing distance of the workroom, his brows furrowed curiously.   
Jack shook his head, grinning. "Yeah, I really wish there weren't Yetis and elves everywhere."  
"Do you want to - " Elsa started, but Jack didn't let her finish.  
"Nope," he said, and cut her off with another kiss.


	16. These Days Are Sacred

-Several years later -

Jack ducked behind the wall of his snow fort just seconds before a snowball flew over his head. "Ha!" he called. "You'll have to do better than that, Elsa!"  
Behind her own snow fort, Elsa's eyes narrowed. "Oh, will I?" She glanced at her team - a group of children out of school for the day - and smiled. She twirled her hands in a circle, creating small mounds of perfectly-shaped snowballs. A few of the children looked up at her in amazement; not everyone could see her - not as many as could see Jack, anyway - but Elsa didn't mind. She took in their delighted smiles, watching as they eagerly reached for the fresh ammunition.  
Within moments, she heard offended squeals coming from Jack's team as her snowballs found their marks. "That's nothing I can't handle!" Jack shouted mockingly, and Elsa raised an eyebrow at his response.  
"Good," she murmured, "because I'm not done yet."  
Elsa dug her heel into the snow bank, making a pulling motion with her hands. Streams of ice burst from the hard-packed ground, twisting and twining together until it created a mirror image of herself, crouching on the ground. Elsa dropped her arms and the decoy stood, flakes of snow already whirling about her hands. Elsa hopped up next to her decoy and threw a snowball at Jack, barely grazing his shoulder. He turned immediately to look at her, a wicked smile spreading over his face as he saw her creation. "You know that isn't fair," he called, a snowball already appearing in his hand. "But if that's the way you wanna play it..."  
Elsa and her decoy both ducked out of the way of his curveball, and Elsa pushed herself up in a crouch. Now that I have his attention, I'll use the distraction for a stealth attack, she thought, smiling to herself. She crept away into the nearby woods, straightening only when she was safely hidden behind a tree trunk. She peered back to see if her absence had been noted, but for now it seemed that Jack's team was doing their best to simply defend from her decoy's attacks. Elsa laughed softly and leaned her head against the rough tree bark, taking a few moments to catch her breath.  
The woods were dark with shadows. The fallen snow faded just a little ways before her, the trees too thick to allow any of it to reach the ground. The wind stirred, bringing a few stray flurries dancing across her view before they vanished into the darkness. The children's shrieks of laughter called behind her, but within the trees there was no sound, and nothing to be seen.  
No... Elsa realized slowly, the smile fading from her face. There was something: the pale, luminous flicker of pale gold.  
"...Pitch?" Elsa whispered.  
"The Snow Queen." His voice was softer than the night, and deeper than any darkness. A shiver traveled up Elsa's spine as Pitch stepped into view. The sight of him was so familiar, but it had been so long since she'd seen him. She stared, taking in the details that she once thought she'd never forget: his square shoulders, the unconsciously graceful line of his cloak, the hollows in his grey throat and cheekbones...  
Pitch let the silence between them hang in the air for a few moments, his lips etched into an emotionless line. "Will you talk with me for a while?" he asked, the query simply that - a query.  
Elsa tipped her face up to meet his gaze. "Yes," she said. "Of course."  
He nodded and turned away, walking back into the woods where he'd come. Elsa shot a look over her shoulder at the snowball fight. She couldn't see Jack from this distance, but she was sure he was in the middle of the fray somewhere. Reassured, she turned back to follow Pitch.  
The Nightmare King was silent as he walked, and Elsa used the time to study his rigid silhouette. It's been so long... How are you, Pitch? she asked him silently. She looked at his long hands, clasped as they were behind his back. Pitch seemed so subdued - but then, wasn't he always? Still, there was no sign of a smile on his solemn face. Is he angry? she wondered. Has he thought at all about the things I said the last time we spoke?  
She hoped he had, at least a little. But if not...  
Pitch stopped abruptly, and Elsa caught herself before she stumbled. "I cannot stay for long," he said, turning back to face her.   
"Yes," she said, meeting his eyes. "I know."  
The first trace of a smile touched his lips, and Elsa knew what he was thinking: yes. If anyone knows the chaotic nature of his schedule and his duties, then it's me.  
They stood there for a while, gazing at each other. Briefly Elsa wondered if she should be afraid, but immediately banished the thought. There was nothing in his face that gave her cause to worry - at least for herself. Pitch was a master at every skill and technique that he'd deemed worthy of his time, but seeing that empty mask on his face again - especially knowing that he had worn it the last time they had spoken, knowing that it was for her that he was wearing it again - made her long to break the silence. Many times she sucked in her breath to speak, only to swallow the words as doubt overcame her.  
Pitch had asked her to come. So that meant that he wanted to speak to her about something... didn't he?  
Elsa had dropped her eyes to the glittering crystals on her gown when Pitch finally spoke. "I cannot change," he murmured. "Not the way that you want me to."  
Elsa immediately looked up at him. Pitch was staring off into the woods, his profile revealing nothing of his true emotions.  
"I have lived so long in the darkness. The shadows have been my constant companion, for centuries upon centuries. Even if I wished to forsake them..." He trailed off for a moment, and Elsa watched as he briefly closed his eyes. "I do not know if there is anything of my true self left."  
Elsa didn't speak.  
"Besides." Pitch's eyes snapped open, a mocking smile curving his lips. "I still relish the power that the darkness has given me. With it I may yet gain the revenge I have always wanted, and have everything I've always dreamed."  
Bitter sarcasm laced his voice, and it hurt Elsa to hear it. I know, Pitch, she thought sadly. The darkness promises many things, and yet... will you ever be truly happy?  
She looked into his face and knew the answer.  
"I'm glad to see you again, Pitch," Elsa said quietly. "I wanted to thank you."  
He glanced at her, his eyebrows rising incredulously. "Thank me?" he repeated.  
"For helping me," she explained. She smiled a little. "For a long time, you were my only friend."  
Pitch blinked and his expression faltered. Then he caught himself, his mask falling into place again. "You shouldn't be grateful," he demurred. "Not after everything I did."  
"But I am," she said, taking a step forward. She ignored the way he stiffened as she came close to him, and rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."  
Pitch slowly relaxed. He raised one hand, as if to caress her cheek, but let it fall without touching her. "Our last moment?" he asked, the familiar rasp rising in his voice.  
"Yes." Elsa rocked back on her heels and she turned away. "Goodbye, Pitch Black."  
She had only gone a few steps when Pitch spoke softly behind her. "They won't ever have nightmares."  
She stopped. "Who won't?"  
"Your..." He halted suddenly, as if the answer had stuck in his throat. Elsa looked at him in time to see him swallow hard, clearly struggling with his words. "Your... children."  
Elsa's mouth fell open in shock. "My...?" she gasped, but couldn't finish. Me, have children? No, that isn't... I mean, is that even possible? Jack and I are winter spirits, so we can't...  
Besides, Jack is so young. I'm young. "We're not - " she spluttered, the words coming out in a jumble. "Jack and I - we can't. I mean, we couldn't - "  
Pitch only looked at her, and in his face Elsa saw for the first time the weight of the many years that he had lived alone. "You will," he said softly. "One day, you will."  
Elsa fell silent at the certainty in his tone. Pitch was far older than she was, after all. So perhaps... "I... thank you," she said after a moment. "I know what a gift your offer is."  
He sniffed at her words, but Elsa sensed no anger in his response. "I trust you will not make light of it."   
Pitch held her gaze for a long while. His golden eyes never wavered from her face, as if he was trying to memorize her or burn a silent promise into her mind, Elsa wasn't sure which. Then he stepped back and inclined his head. "Farewell, your highness," he murmured.   
Elsa looked on as Pitch silently turned and stepped into the shadows, leaving her alone in the dark woods.

Jack met her at the tree line, a playful frown on his pale face. "Don't tell me you were hiding over here the whole time?" he said, crossing his arms. "It's bad enough that your snow decoy doesn't have the same physical restrictions that you do, but on top of that, I'm expecting you to launch a sneak-attack at any moment!"  
Elsa blinked, forcing her mind back to the present. The snowball fight. "Who won?" she asked, conjuring up a teasing smile. "My decoy beat you, didn't she?"  
"No, she did not!" Jack said, a little too adamantly. "She almost did, but my team pulled together for the win."  
"I see," she said. "I'll have to try harder to beat you next time."  
Jack looked over at her, his mouth opened in another retort, and then he paused. His eyes flickered over her face and Elsa watched his expression soften. "What's wrong?" she asked.  
He shook himself. "Nothing." He blinked at her. "I just... I remembered the first time we met, on that bridge. For a second you looked like you did back then."  
She looked at him. What did he see? she wondered. Was I too distracted, or too serious?  
Jack smiled a little. He reached up to trace the outer edge of her bottom lip with his thumb. "You looked beautiful," he murmured, "and sad."  
That's right. Jack had told her long ago that he'd loved her from the first moment he'd seen her, and her tragic beauty had sparked a longing to meet her, to speak to her, and make her smile.  
You succeeded, Jack, she thought, her lips curving up gently. She curled her hands into the folds of his hoodie, tugging him slowly closer. "And now?" she asked.  
"Now..." Jack trailed off, his eyes helplessly falling and lingering on her mouth. Elsa smiled and leaned forward as he dipped his head to kiss her. His hands trailed across her skin to knot in her hair, pulling her head back to deepen the kiss. Elsa's fingers dug into the collar of his hood, dragging at him until he was pressed against her.  
Jack's kisses were so different from the way Pitch used to kiss her; the Nightmare King's had been soft and numbing, like the taste of oblivion. In contrast, Jack's breaths crackled in her chest like blooming crystals of frost, and his kisses were tentative but eager. And his touch...  
Jack's fingers crept down the back of her neck and under the top of her gown's neckline, his skin burning against her shoulder blades. He tore his mouth away from hers to kiss her throat, his heart hammering against her breast. Elsa sucked in a breath and forced herself to open her eyes. No. Not... not yet. The heat inside her was heavy, alluring. She made herself pull away.   
Jack dropped his head with a sigh, his warm breath rushing over her shoulder. His hands slid down her arms, swirls of lacy frost trailing across her sleeves. "You make me want too much," he murmured.  
Elsa's heart skipped a little in her chest. "Jack." She touched his cheek, and he immediately glanced up. "Jack, I love you," she whispered.  
A delighted smile spread across his face. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing those words," he said.  
She peered up at him from under her lashes, her mouth curving in amusement. "I love you," she said. "I love you, Jack. I love you - "  
"Still not tired," he reminded her, leaning in to give her a chaste kiss.  
Elsa shut her eyes, savoring the sweetness of his affection. Perhaps someday I would like to have a child with Jack, she thought. Someday I'll give in to his longing glances and daring touches. Someday I'll let myself fall under the spell of his hungry kisses and the heavy sighs of my name. Someday, when he asks for all of me, I won't draw back.  
And someday, when I have a daughter, I'll name her Anna.  
Jack stepped back and picked up his staff. "Let's go," he said.   
I will give in to him, someday. But not yet, Elsa told herself. Jack held out his hand and she twined her fingers with his. Now, he's still mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of Through Ice and Shadows! Thank you for being so patient with my long months of silence, and I hope that this story lived up to all your expectations. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and all the kudos, and I'll see you guys in my next story! :)


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